


Unfit for Duty

by missblueeyes63



Category: SEAL Team (TV)
Genre: Angst, Brotherhood, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mission Fic, Protective Older Brothers, Team as Family, Whump Clay, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2020-08-20 08:15:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20224666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missblueeyes63/pseuds/missblueeyes63
Summary: After being rescued from Tabasi's clutches, Clay's recovery becomes more mental than physical and he is forced to see a psychologist before he can return to the team. When the psychologist threatens to declare Clay unfit for duty and recommend he be discharged from the military, will his brothers be able to help him before his career and life are destroyed? And how does the IIB plan to go back under the radar when Mandy and Bravo team are unrelenting in their pursuit?This is 'U' in the Alphabet Injuries collection and a continuation of"Where's Spenser?"and"Taken and Tortured"which picks up four days after Clay is rescued.





	1. Untouchable and Unconditional Care

**Author's Note:**

> Not certain how quickly chapters will be posted. Made a deal with the muse that she can write a section of this story only after completing a chapter of my next novel in the Beauty of Life series.

_ **Bravo’s Plane Bound for Virginia** _

Clay shifted on the uncomfortable gurney, trying and failing to find a position which didn’t exacerbate his aching body. He was ready to go home after being forced to stay in the hospital for four days. Brock had been released on the second day, but the urinary infection Clay developed from ripping out his catheter the first day kept him there longer while he received intravenous antibiotics.

It must’ve been some cosmic payback for kicking Theresa in the stomach because she didn’t deserve to be hurt. As nurses go, she was one of the best he ever encountered, and that was saying something since most of those who took care of him were top of the line.

He shifted his gaze to Brock, who lay on a gurney beside him. Their mobile beds had been lowered close to the floor for the flight, and Cerb now curled up next to Brock, both sleeping. Clay appreciated his bed faced the front of the plane rather than the rear because it afforded him a view of the rest of the team, who were all in their hammocks now.

Clay needed at least one of them in visual range at all times. He hated to admit but having been abducted in a public venue while on vacation left him unnerved. It didn’t help that he continued to experience ungodly nightmares every time he slept. Nor the fact he was utterly helpless at the moment. Both arms remained immobile unless he was eating or needed to use the latrine. And going to the bathroom, if it wasn’t peeing in a bottle, required assistance because he was not allowed to put any weight on his legs with the hairline fractures to his tibias.

Breathing slow and deliberate, Clay attempted to calm his anxiety as he closed his eyes. _I can do this. I’m in my safe place. I’m surrounded by my brothers. No one here wants to harm me. There are no tasers attached to me. Tabasi isn’t on this plane._

Clay’s heart rate increased at the mere thought of Tabasi. The man had gone to unparalleled lengths to take him so he could torture him for killing his sons, who were trying to kill him in the first place. A hand touching his shoulder startled him, and his eyes flew open to find Trent crouched beside him.

“Sorry. Should’ve announced myself verbally. How’s your pain?”

“Bearable.”

“I can give you some relief. You don’t need to be in pain. This med isn’t addictive.”

“No.” Clay was sick of being drugged. He wanted a clear head, even if it meant discomfort.

“Okay. Get some rest then.”

Clay rolled his eyes. “What I was doing before you came over and sca …” he trailed off not wanting to admit the touch scared the crap out of him.

Trent rose and grinned as if nothing was amiss. He kicked himself for dredging up Clay’s fear of touch. The only one who could get close to the kid was Sonny, and the Texan had been ultra-tightlipped as to the source of Clay’s unnatural reactions to them. They all figured something happened in captivity which Clay didn’t include in his after-action report and allowed the kid to work through the issue on his own … for now.

Try as he might, Clay couldn’t unwind. His pulse kept up it’s quick-step even as he did sniper breathing, inhaling, holding for a count of four, and exhaling. The next twelve hours would be spent in misery if he couldn’t find a way to calm down and relax his muscles. Half-tempted to call Sonny back to him, Clay opened his mouth but closed it again. He didn’t want to appear weak … weaker than he was at this point.

He sucked it up and shut his eyes, determined to go to sleep. Clay counted sheep to one hundred and forty-six before they morphed into chubby unicorns. The incongruent images of rhinos leaping as gracefully as gazelles over a hedge made him smile. He lost count of the unicorns and drifted off somewhere between fifty and sixty.

Jolting awake with a cry, Clay struggled against his bindings, locked in his nightmare.

Sonny fell out of his hammock in his haste to reach the kid when Clay howled. He had been having a pleasant dream of spending time with Lisa. Picking himself up, he raced to the back of the plane while the others gave him space since he was the only one Clay allowed close to him in this state.

“Simba, it’s me, Sonny.” He uttered more soft words which would cut through the unrelenting fog of terror and bring his brother back to the here and now. When the vulnerable blue orbs locked on him, Sonny rested a hand on the kid’s bicep. “Okay.”

Clay inhaled sharply through his nose and slowly blew it out through his mouth. “Sonny?”

“Yeah?”

“Thought I would be free of them here.”

“Nightmares?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?” Sonny sat on the floor and kept a physical link with Clay as his brother calmed.

“My safe place. When I was hanging there, I wanted to be here, swinging in my hammock. At one point, I thought I’d be going home in a flag-draped box.”

Sonny nodded. He had a safe place too. They all did. His was his grandninny’s kitchen. She loved him dearly and always had tons of hugs, smiles, positive words, and delicious treats waiting for him in her kitchen. An idea popped into Sonny’s mind. “I’ll be back in a moment. Don’t go nowhere.” His quip got the desired effect when Clay gave him the stink-eye which translated into, _‘Where the hell can I go? I can’t walk.’_

Going to their gear area, Sonny rummaged around until he found what he was searching for, and when he straightened and turned, he came face-to-face with Jason.

“What you doing?”

“Helping Simba sleep … maybe without nightmares.” Sonny set to work as Jason observed him. When he finished, Sonny said, “Wanna give me a hand with him?”

“Don’t think this is a good idea.”

“I do.” Sonny lowered his voice to a whisper, “Our plane in his hammock is his safe place.”

Jason arched a brow. “Okay.”

Returning to the rear of the aircraft, Sonny crouched again and started undoing the straps which protected Clay from falling off the gurney if they hit turbulence. “Time for a change of scenery, Kid.”

“Where we going?” Sonny’s actions stymied him because, from his position, he couldn’t see where his brother went or what he did a little bit ago.

Once the belts were unfastened, Sonny helped Clay to sit, and Jason moved to the other side. Jason’s and Sonny’s hands crossed Spenser’s back and slipped under his thighs as they created a chair-like hold and lifted in unison. Trent and Ray watched as Clay was carried forward.

Clay’s eyes rounded when he spotted his hammock strung between Trent’s and Sonny’s. “Why is it so low?”

“Don’t want you hurtin’ yourself if you flip out. Gonna move the gurney pad below it just in case though,” Sonny explained.

Ray and Trent grinned as they held the fabric while Jason and Sonny maneuvered Clay into his hammock.

Eric roused enough to observe the brotherly deed. A smile came to his face as he closed his eyes again. Bravo was the best-damned team he ever commanded, and it was times like these which would unequivocally stay in his memory. These men fought hard for their country and their brothers. They possessed true warrior hearts.

Clay settled into his cocoon with a bright, unforgettable grin plastered on his face. No words were necessary, and the guys moved back to their beds. In short order, the slight sway soothed Clay’s frazzled nerves and rocked him to sleep.

Not hovering, but keeping a watchful eye out on Clay, Sonny sighed when the soft, regular rhythm indicated the kid now slumbered. He hoped the rest of the flight would be uneventful, but Sonny would respond without hesitation if his brother needed him again. 

* * *

_ **Trent’s Home** _

Resigned to the fact he wouldn’t be going to his apartment for quite some time, Clay didn’t make a fuss when Trent informed him he would be staying at his home. Still riding the euphoria of both sleeping the remainder of the flight without experiencing a nightmare, and the drugs Trent insisted he take before exiting the plane, he surveyed Trent’s spare room. He noted the medical textbooks strewn all over the desk in the corner and the twin bed in the other. Tiny but enough space for the guys to maneuver his wheelchair.

In all truth, Clay understood why he wasn’t allowed to go home. He couldn’t walk, and he didn’t have the use of his arms except for limited movements. Being unquestionably dependent on his brothers was better than being confined to a hospital, which was the only other option given to him by Dr. Irving.

Sonny waited a moment as Clay scanned his new digs, allowing his brother to acclimate a moment. When he noted Clay’s shoulders relax slightly, he pushed him the rest of the way inside. “Time for a nap.”

“I’m not five,” Clay groused.

Ray followed them into the room since Jason drove Brock and Cerb home, would brief Brock’s girlfriend on his medication schedule and dos and don’ts, then planned to stop at Clay’s apartment to grab clothing and toiletries for the kid. “No, but the meds Trent gave you are taking effect. You’ll be snoozing again soon. You’ll be more comfortable in bed. Your neck won’t get a crick.”

Sonny positioned the chair near the bed. To avoid ratcheting up Clay unexpected aversion to being touched, he put the ball in Clay’s court. “Tell us when you’re ready to be moved.”

Quelling his unease, telling himself his brothers wouldn’t hurt him, Clay sucked in a breath and gradually exhaled. “Ready.”

Ray and Sonny worked together and lifted in unison, careful not to bump Clay’s legs as they shifted him to the bed.

Trent entered at that point and dropped a triangular foam wedge at the foot of the mattress. “Prop his legs up on this. Dawn is bringing in a couple more pillows for you, and a heating pad for your shoulders.”

“Don’t need them.” Clay lay back and promptly regretted his words as his shoulders throbbed. He didn’t know Dawn well, she came out to the bar several times with Trent, but right now he hated being seen by or being around anyone other than Bravo.

Trent pivoted and strode from the room. He needed to have a little talk with Dawn. He had another twinge of insight and realized it might be better if Dawn didn’t enter Clay’s room and kept a low profile, at least for the first few days. She would be receptive to his request, unlike his ex-wife. His ex, never fit in with their culture, never understood their mindsets, and undoubtedly never would’ve agreed to host an injured teammate in their home.

He caught her in the hall and smiled. “Hey, Dawn.”

Dawn halted. “Hey what?”

“I have a favor to ask.” He went on to lay out his request and reasons.

“Absolutely. Whatever you guys need. Anything, in particular, you or Clay would like for dinner? Any dietary restrictions?”

“Protein shakes and smoothies are good for Clay because he can use a long straw and not raise and lower his arms too much. Same with burros and wraps. Anything that doesn’t require utensils … no cutting. Makes him feel less unmanly if we don’t need to cut-up his food for him.”

“Gotcha. Oh, I couldn’t find the heating pad.” Dawn handed over the pillows and kissed Trent’s cheek. “I’m glad your home. I’m going to spoil you rotten too. Three bullets …” she sighed. “I would hate to lose you. You’re the best thing that has happened in my life.”

Trent wrapped his arms around Dawn, pulling her close and lowering his lips to hers, savoring her sweetness. When he pulled back, he almost said, I love you, but something made him change it to, “I’m only alive because of the kid. We’d all be dead if not for him. Thanks for helping me with him.”

Dawn’s hand caressed Trent’s face and carded through his hair. She loved him, hoped one day they might marry, but she would give their relationship time to grow, especially after the number his ex-wife had done on him. “Anytime. Now, go. I’ve got grocery shopping to do. Need to grab things to make smoothies and stock up on Sonny’s favorite beer.”

“Why Sonny’s?”

Dawn smiled. “Wherever Clay is, Sonny is. I assume he’s staying here until he, Ray, and Jason deploy in two weeks.”

Utterly amazed, Trent could only smile as he nodded. Perhaps taking the plunge into marriage again might not be so bad … with Dawn. When she sauntered back down the hall, he turned and headed back to the guest room.

“I’ll check in tomorrow,” Ray said before taking his leave, wanting to go home to Naima and his kids. As much as he wanted to go after and destroy the IIB organization, he needed the time with his family too.

Trent handed the pillow to Sonny, who lifted Clay and made their youngest teammate more comfortable. He leaned on the wall, noting the kid’s lids were at half-mast, he would be sawing logs shortly. A few times he started to tell Clay about the weird psychic link he had to him, but could never find the right words. Perhaps it was a one-off thing, and if so, he wouldn’t have to admit his trip into the Twilight Zone.

When Sonny finished and turned to him, Trent said, “Dawn’s gone shopping. I’ve got an air mattress in the hall closet if you want to set it up in here.”

Clay’s sleepy voice came out a little unsteady, “Sonny, you staying?”

“You betcha, Underdog.”

“Don’t like that one …” Clay trailed off as he quit fighting against a drug-induced slumber, secure in the knowledge Sonny would remain near.

Stepping out of the room, and shutting the door, Sonny peered at Trent. “You sure Dawn is oaky with us both here. I could take the kid to my place.”

“I’m sure, and if she wasn’t, that would be a signal to me, it would be over. Besides, this way he can settle in before you have to leave, and perhaps will loosen up around me, so he isn’t so stressed when you’re gone.”

Sonny chewed his toothpick and sighed. “Thought about asking Blackburn if I can stay.”

Trent’s brows arched as his lips upturned. “Never thought I’d see the day the Mighty Quinn would choose not to go after targets.”

“Well, this is truly unprecedented territory. Kid’s never shied away from you guys. They screwed with his head big time. He needs me more than I need to go swack the assholes. Though, if I could do both, I would.”

“I hear ya. Let’s play this by ear. Perhaps Clay will open up to me.”

Sonny grinned and teased, “Maybe if you quit being a chicken and told him about the link you shared with him, he might.”

“Not being chicken.”

“Uh-huh.” Sonny ambled to the closet as he chuckled.

“Just don’t want to give any ammunition to anyone to make me go see a shrink again. Manila was bad enough.”

Sonny nodded. “Yeah, Shaw hoped to use that to split us up. He failed. So will any other shrink. Bravo’s solid. The kid will be too. Given a little time to get his head on straight.”

Trent only nodded and headed to the bathroom in search of the heating pad. Clay would want it when he woke up.


	2. Unfathomable, Undeterred, and Unadulterated Fear

_ **Trent’s Home – Guest Room** _

Jason stood in the doorway staring at Clay as he slept and he couldn’t help the smirk playing on his face. The kid would probably kill him for what he did, but damn, it had been a spur of the moment decision and one he believed might help. At least a little if he could keep the guys from teasing Clay.

Though that shouldn’t be too hard, every single one of them sighed with relief when they rescued him … alive. However, the intervening days in the hospital showed them Clay had unseen injuries. Ones which would require patience and reassurance to help their brother reclaim his independence and self-confidence.

His grin faded as Jason considered what might’ve occurred, the underlying cause of Spenser’s newly acquired skittishness and aversion to being touched. It turned his stomach to think Clay had been violated in such a manner, but it would account for his reactions. For now, they would focus on creating a safe space and surround Clay with men he trusted, which counted only seven if he included Cerb, who technically wasn’t a person, but hey, the hair missile was male.

Footfalls behind him caused Jason to turn. “No teasing. None.”

Sonny screwed up his face, not sure what Jason was going on about, but understanding dawned as he peeked into the room. His face split into a broad grin. “Wouldn’t. You know, Davis bought that for him and brought it to the hospital when she visited him while we were in Manila. Surprised, he kept it.”

“I’m not.” Trent piped up, having witnessed Jason tucking the little plush seal into Clay’s arms earlier.

“Why do ya think he didn’t toss it?” Sonny inquired.

“Everyone needs something to hang on to in rough waters. We couldn’t be here, Stella was out of the picture, his dad, well, and I’m sure the plush animal helped steady him during the lonely nights.”

Sonny chuckled. “Okay, you sound a little too wise on the subject. Where are you hiding your stuffed animal? Underneath your pillow?”

Trent rolled his eyes. “Not everyone requires first-hand knowledge to learn something like you do, Sonny. There are things called books. You outta read one. Might open your eyes.”

Their banter halted as Clay began to stir. Jason and Trent held back as Sonny entered the room. The kid waking either brought a few seconds of fear and disorientation, which Sonny helped him through, or calm acceptance and awareness, but they couldn’t predict with any certainty which would happen. They all wished they could approach him, but were unable due to this newfound fear.

Clay heard someone approaching and blinked open to find the Texan. Relief washed through him because at first, he wondered if he was back there and would be enduring another round of torture. The sensation of something between his arm and chest made him glance down. His eyes shot to Sonny, who smiled and shook his head.

“Not my doing, Ultraman.”

With both arms strapped, Clay couldn’t move the seal. “Who did and who is Ultraman?”

“Don’t you watch Japanese sci-fi?” Sonny sidestepped ratting out Jason.

“No.”

“Thought all you millennial snowflakes did.”

Jason stepped into the room; glad Clay woke coherent. “Hey. About dinnertime. You interested in moving to the other room to eat, or would you prefer to stay here?”

Clay realized in that moment who was responsible for bringing Sammy the Seal and stuffing him into his arms. When he first joined, he never would’ve expected that of his team lead. Jason possessed a reputation of being an unapologetic, unbridled hardass and the best-damned leader in DEVGRU, so Jason putting a plush animal in the arms of a teammate was unfathomable. But here it was, and the only person who went to his apartment was Jason.

He debated whether he wanted to move or not. He was sore laying on his back all the time, but going to the other room meant they would have to lift him again, and that meant pain too. Plus, he would have to endure them touching him. He truly didn’t understand why a simple touch set off a wave of nausea and scared him so much.

They were his brothers, and they would never hurt him. He had been beaten to hell before and never experience something like this. It wasn’t like Tabasi let Dinc follow through with raping him. He should be able to handle some asshole fondling him and threatening rape … he was a trained SEAL after all. The man just wanted to get inside his head … not his ass. Reacting to any touch was letting Tabasi win.

Clay swallowed hard and noticed Jason, Sonny, and Trent patiently waiting for an answer. He recognized his mind wandered … again. It had been doing a lot of that whenever he was awake. Refusing to allow the bastard to win, Clay pushed down on his unexplainable fear. “Other room.”

“How about a shower first?” Trent suggested. The kid had not bathed since he woke. The nurses had cleaned him when he arrived at the hospital before he was conscious, but after that, Clay refused all attempts.

“No.”

“You’re getting a little ripe.” Sonny tipped his hat back. “Jace brought a shower chair. I can help you onto it, and you can at least let the water roll over you.”

Clay’s eyes darted to Jason. He had meant to ditch that damned shower chair once he managed to stand on his own, but unfortunately, he never got around to doing so after returning to the team. “No. Don’t want one.”

“You need—” Trent started.

“NO!” Clay snapped out, cutting the medic off.

“Perhaps tomorrow. I believe Dawn is making you a smoothie. You ready for Sonny and me to transfer to your chair?” Jason decided to ask Trent if the kid’s medical records might give them a clue if the kid had been raped.

Clay lowered his eyes, not happy with himself for barking at Trent. He mumbled, “Sorry for being—”

“Stop.”

His lids lifted and gazed at Trent when he spoke.

“Nothing to apologize for. You said no, and I shouldn’t have pushed. Would you like a raspberry or blueberry smoothie?” Trent decided to give Clay choices whenever possible. The kid had been taken against his will, undressed, left hanging, and subjected to unhuman torture. Unarguably the loss of control must play a role in his current mindset. Giving Clay control over things might help restore his equilibrium.

“Raspberry, please.”

“You got it.” Trent pivoted to go to the kitchen.

Shifting his gaze to Sonny, Clay blew out a breath. “Need to make a pitstop.”

Sonny nodded as Jason moved the chair into position. The two moved in an unhurried fashion, taking care as they maneuvered Clay into the wheelchair. Jason stood in the room as Sonny pushed Spenser to the restroom down the hall. The Texan developed a system which required only him to transfer the kid to the toilet and back. He glanced at the bed and grinned again. Clay didn’t ask for the stuffed seal to be removed from his sling and took it with him.

* * *

_ **Mandy’s Office** _

Resting her elbow on the desk and her cheek in her palm, Mandy stared at the laptop’s monitor. She brought copies of all the video they collected in Zermatt back with her. She worked her contacts and called in favors from colleagues with resources in countries Clay passed through on the train. So far, she obtained security footage from the Zürich and Sofia stations, but Belgrade, where Clay ended up on the tracks, and Istanbul continued to be unattainable.

She also received satellite photos of Tabasi’s compound. She had intended to scour them for images of the deceased, believing she might discover someone who would lead her to other members of IIB. Unfortunately, someone blew the place sky high and must’ve soaked all the bodies with flammable liquid beforehand since only burnt, unrecognizable corpses lay about.

Tabasi had been mute during her interrogation of him. He was unwilling to divulge why he and el-Samad remained there if they planned to set a trap. Nor did he react when she told him the younger el-Samad had been the one to give up the names of the other IIB members.

Though, in hindsight, Tabasi probably planned for them to capture el-Samad so they could entrap Bravo in Simir. That seemed the only logical reason to Mandy, though something about the whole situation and the way things played out still left her with an unsettled feeling. So she turned Tabasi over to others versed in techniques of encouraging people to talk.

Undeterred by Tabasi’s uncooperative behavior, Mandy would continue to ferret out the IIB organization and develop an iron-clad, well-vetted target package. She refused to put Bravo under the gun with unacceptable intel again.

Mandy sighed and shut her eyes as she viewed Trip landing on Clay in the Sofia train station when he slipped the burner phone into his pocket. Without Trip’s help, Clay might still be unaccounted for, which caused her gut to roil.

She had been barred from Spenser’s room at the Bagram hospital, though Blackburn indicated Clay’s wounds were not life-threatening. Mandy didn’t understand why, and no one, not even Jason gave her a clue as to why. Blackburn made an unpopular announcement to her, the analysts, Alpha, and the support team the morning after the rescue, none of them were allowed to visit and were being sent home on a separate flight that afternoon, but Bravo would return when Clay was released.

The unknown and un-Navy-like decisions niggled at her. She was aware from Scott that Clay didn’t suffer any disfiguring wounds, so Jason wasn’t trying to shield his youngest teammate from gawking stares. She learned they arrived this afternoon, but thus far, Jason had not returned her call or text asking how they fared.

Lifting her lashes, Mandy pushed her unanswered questions about Clay to the backburner and refocused on the video. It was unlikely someone with the clout Tabasi possessed would travel with only one guard. They identified the burly man who pushed the wheelchair using a passport scan in Zurich, Dinc Uzun. Sonny confirmed he schwacked the guy outside of the room where they found Clay.

She needed to find the others. Mandy would be unwavering in her determination to destroy this organization and utilize every resource at her disposal. Then perhaps she might unburden herself of the guilt weighing on her for sending the guys into a trap. One in which Trent had been shot and Clay had been dragged, beaten, and identified by Tabasi which allowed him to target Clay and, in the process, not only injure Clay, Brock, Cerb, and Nick but kill twenty-eight innocent people in an avalanche. 

* * *

_ **Trent’s Home – Family Room** _

Clay felt utterly idiotic, but he appreciated Trent’s solution. The effort of using his arms to take care of business in the bathroom left them fatigued and aching. Even with the extra-long straw, lifting the glass enough to reach his mouth put an uncomfortable strain on his muscles and caused his hands to shake.

So Trent came up with a solution, something he received as a gag gift for his fortieth birthday, one with an Over-the-hill theme. He now wore a black, plastic baseball helmet with cupholders on either side, intended for beer cans. Tubes were built-in and could be inserted into said cans, or in his case cups of smoothie, and the flexible tubing snaked down and was positioned in easy reach of his mouth — a unique hands-free method of consuming his dinner.

His fingers unconsciously curled around the stuffed seal as he listened to the others shoot the shit like they normally did in the bar, glad for a bit of pseudo normalcy. When the subject turned to Brock, Clay asked, “When does Brock start physical therapy?”

“He’s already doing some passive motions to prevent a frozen shoulder, but another couple of weeks before the real work starts,” Trent answered. “Want more to drink?”

“No. Tell Dawn it was good.”

“Sure. Want the hat off?” Trent stood and waited. Getting a nod, he stepped closer and removed the perfect solution.

He headed to the kitchen to do the dishes and grinned when he thought about Dawn’s unrequested offer tonight. When she returned from the store with everything they would need for several days, she informed him she arranged to stay at her sister’s home to give Clay space. She would stop by after work to make dinners, and visit briefly until Clay became comfortable in her presence. Dawn seemed to understand what it meant to be the spouse or significant other of a top-tier operator.

Sonny rose and said, “Simba, I’m gonna grab a shower. You okay with me out of the room?”

“Yeah,” Clay answered when he wanted to say no.

Quiet descended on the room with only him and Jason. His grip on the seal increased as his heart sped up for no reason. His breathing began to hitch, and he began to shake. Unnerved by his reaction to nothing, his gaze sought out Jason.

The unadulterated fear and pleading in Clay’s eyes had Jason out of his chair in under a second. “Breathe. Slow it down. Like this.” He sat near but not touching Clay. He inhaled, held his breath, and exhaled, offering Clay a model to follow. “That’s it. Slow and easy. In, hold, out.”

“I don’t …” Clay’s voice tremored, “understand.” His unregulated and ragged breaths continued as his entire body shook for no apparent reason.

“Can I hold you?”

Nodding, Clay prepared for the onslaught of unwanted nausea that accompanied any skin contact with another person.

Jason gently drew Clay to him, tucking his head in the crook of his shoulder and lightly wrapping his arms around Clay. The kid’s body melded into his, unresisting when he pulled him closer. “Okay. You’re gonna be alright.” Jason pitched his voice as he had when Mikey experienced a nightmare. Unhurriedly, he began to rub circles on Clay’s back, attempting to soothe the kid as he had his children.

Utterly unmanned and embarrassed, Clay let his team leader hold him as he rode the wave of an unforeseen tsunami of emotions. When the need to unleash the contents of his stomach became unstoppable, Clay wrenched away with a gagging sound. A bowl which contained unsalted and unbuttered popcorn appeared under his chin in the nick of time. He coated the popcorn in pink, regurgitated smoothie.

Trent rushed out of the kitchen when he overheard the retching, bringing with him a rag and a water bottle. “What happened?” He took a knee on the opposite side of Clay.

“Unsure. He was fine one moment then began shaking and having trouble breathing. Thought it might be a panic attack, so I held him. Then he started hurling.” Jason held the bowl with one hand and braced Clay’s back with the other as he lost everything he ate tonight.

Setting down the items he brought in with him, Trent stood. “Gonna grab my bag.”

“Knock on the bathroom too. We need Sonny.”

“Yeah.” Trent raced off to his room to get his Spenser med-kit but stopped to pound on the hall bathroom. “Kid needs you.”

Sonny slammed off the water, not bothering to rinse his hair. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his midsection after he yanked open the door. Dripping wet, he raced into the family room and went straight to Clay who was now spitting into a bowl. “Hey, kid. I’m here.” He uncapped the water and held it for Clay. “Take a sip and spit.”

Clay unconsciously leaned towards Sonny and away from Jason as he accepted a bit of water and swished. He missed the glance the two shared … unaware of the flicker of sadness in Jason’s eyes and the sincere concern reflected in Sonny’s.

Returning, unzipping the pack on his way, Trent pulled out a blood pressure cuff. “Clay. Clay, can you focus on me?”

Somewhat unfocused eyes lifted, seeking to comply as unrelenting tremors coursed through him. “Trent, what’s wrong,” his voice wobbled, “with me?”

“Not sure, buddy. Could be anything. I’m going to take your BP. Okay?” Trent needed to talk to Dr. Irving. He was still miffed he had been prevented from reviewing Clay's charts at Bagram. This might be a delayed response to the repeated shocks his body received or a reaction to the medication he had been prescribed.

As he trembled, Clay nodded. When Trent’s hand brushed his thigh as he moved to put on the cuff, the need to hurl resurged, but with nothing left he ended up dry-heaving. Thoroughly spent after his abdomen quit clenching, he let Sonny guide him backward and to the side, so he rested in the corner of the couch as Trent took his vitals and Jason covered him with a blanket. He drifted, not able to pay attention to the words spoken by the three around him.

Clay wanted to curl up and hide. He didn’t understand what was happening to him._ Why does touch make me sick to my stomach and ramp up unnatural fear? What the hell is wrong with me?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	3. Navigating Uncharted Waters

_ **One Week Later – Trent’s Home – Guest Room** _

Sharp pain in his back woke Clay in the dead of night. He began to draw his legs up but stopped as his calf muscles cramped. Clenching his jaw, he rode out the waves of pain, refusing to call out and wake Sonny for the umpteenth time.

As the cramping started to ease, Clay blew out a breath and stared at the ceiling illuminated by the nightlight plugged into the wall outlet. The last week staying at Trent’s place had included one humiliating event after another. For some reason, if he woke to a pitch-black room, he would tremble uncontrollably. Hence the new addition which cast away the dark.

The first panic attack, which occurred a week ago, became frequent unwanted intrusions and happened without forewarning. More than once, he spilled smoothies in his lap as his hand violently shook. Trent spoke with Dr. Irving, and they found no physical cause for his shaking or nausea. The unpredictable nature of the episodes left everyone on edge.

He still refused to shower. He reeked and wondered when they would force him to submit to a thorough washing. Due to his body’s propensity to vibrate enough to make him unsteady even while sitting, made taking a shower alone an unacceptable risk in Trent’s and Jason’s eyes. At some point, he needed to man-up, strip down, accept help, and get in the fucking shower, but he failed to find the mental strength to do so yet.

Clay spent a lot of time thinking about why he refused and came to the conclusion it wasn’t only about being touched or being naked in front of his brothers, though that played a large part. Part of him laid the blame for what befell him due to his desire to shower at the remote base in the Sahara. If he had not been in the shower tent when the IIB blew up the ammo supply, the chain of events since wouldn’t have occurred.

Though unrealistic, he wanted to travel back in time and change things. He would rather put up with sand in places where he chafed, then end up here, wholly and unmistakably fucked up and dependent on others for his base needs. Unbidden, tears leaked out and trailed off the sides of his face and onto the pillow beneath his head. They often did in the middle of the night. The lack of control left him shaken to the core.

Everything he thought of himself came into question. He once believed he couldn’t be broken, could withstand any form of torture and pain. He survived ungodly pain in the past. He’d been shot, knifed, almost drowned, impaled on a hook, practically hung, dragged, beaten, drugged, bit by a venomous sea krait, blown up several times, electrocuted, nearly eaten by a leopard, and hell he even lost his memory once.

The scars littering his body provided physical evidence of what he could endure. So why did he break now? Why would one asshole who subjected him to pain, and not the worst pain he experienced, cause him to fall apart? If he didn’t get his shit together, and soon, he would lose his place on Bravo.

Sonny lay still as he debated whether to rise and go to Clay. The quiet crying broke his heart. The kid tried to hide his tears, but traces were evident on his face each morning. He was out of his depth and didn’t understand how to help his little brother. Sonny wondered if Clay went through something similar when he recovered while they were in Manila.

Undoubtedly if he asked, he would embarrass Clay, so Sonny and the rest of the guys chose to pretend it didn’t happen. Their brother was dealing with enough humiliation already. The way Clay would lower his eyes and apologize each time he was helped onto the toilet made Sonny want to kill Tabasi.

The once quick to smile, cocky, and outspoken pipehitter had been replaced with a solemn, uncertain, and almost mute shadow of the former man. With the lack of food while he was held hostage, followed by a week of constant vomiting took a toll on Clay’s body. Though Dawn did a magnificent job packing the kid’s smoothies with nutrition, Spenser’s inability to keep food down caused him to lose weight. If things didn’t resolve soon, Trent said the doc might be forced to hospitalize Clay.

None of them wanted that for the kid. They were doing their best, with Blackburn’s assistance, to shield him from a mandatory psych eval until he got a handle on his emotions. After Shaw forced them to visit with a headshrink in Manila, some cake-eater decided it would be a good idea to implement criterion under which operators would be required to visit one. Being taken hostage was one of the criteria. They would lose the kid for sure if he had to undergo evaluation now.

Though, Clay’s words the first night in the hospital, _“Don’t let them touch me again. I don’t want to be raped.” _coupled with his fear of touch, refusal to shower, and Trent’s unsuccessful attempt to obtain a copy of the kid’s medical records after they rescued him, unsettled Sonny. At first, Sonny took the words to mean Clay had been threatened with the possibility to mess with his head. But the more he studied Clay’s behavior the more he wondered if the kid left off one word from the end of his statement … “_I don’t want to be raped **again**.”_

In uncharted waters, unsure how to fix his brother, Sonny thought for the first time perhaps a psychologist might be able to help Clay. He recalled how his sister’s friend had fallen to pieces after an attempted assault. If he hadn’t come out of the bar earlier than usual, he would’ve found Uma more than roughed up with her dress hiked around her waist as the asshole tried to tear off her panties.

Uma resisted therapy at first, claiming she was fine. But her life began to spiral out of control, and at one point, she tried to commit suicide. After months of therapy, Uma began to heal, and she returned to the vibrant young woman everyone liked. So perhaps Clay would benefit too, especially if Tabasi went further than just threatening the kid.

His thoughts halted as Clay’s soft voice said, “Sonny. Hey, Sonny.”

“Yeah?” Sonny rolled over so he could peer at Clay.

“Sorry to wake you. I um, I gotta take a leak.”

“No problem.” Sonny rose and pushed the rolling armless desk chair closer to the bed. They found the chair work better for one-man transfers since they could position it right next to the bed and it was the same height. It was also easier to maneuver in Trent’s bathroom, and he could adjust it, so it was level with the stool.

Sonny pulled Sammy out of Clay’s sling and set it on the bed. The stuffed animal went everywhere with the kid, except the latrine. Unfortunately, that meant the plush seal had been puked on several times, but Dawn worked magic and got the blueberry stains out of it yesterday.

None of them said a word about the seal which Clay clutched whenever the panic attacks overtook him. They were just glad he had something to help ease his anxiety. In Sonny’s mind, Sammy was no different than his magnetic shark-repellent bracelet, Ray’s pocket bible, or Cerb sleeping with Clay’s shirt. If it brought him a modicum of comfort and relief, then so be it.

* * *

_ **Trent’s Home - Bathroom** _

After transferring Clay to the seat, and unstrapping his arms so he could shimmy off his shorts and take care of business, Sonny turned his back and stared out into the hall to give the kid a bit of privacy while remaining visible.

Clay hung his head as he sat. This was only slightly less mortifying than when recovering after the bomb in Manila tore up his legs. He hated using bedpans and having someone else wipe his butt. Though it hurt, he possessed enough range of motion in his arms to do that for himself and to lift a glass or fork to feed himself. Raising them above mid-chest is when the real agony began.

The urge to pee he had in the room seemed to fade, but after all the effort to get here, he decided to wait a bit because with his luck it would probably return once he made it back to bed. When his stream finally began, it came with extreme pain in his lower back. He groaned as his hand moved to his flank, causing pain in his shoulder too. “Shit!”

Sonny almost made a quip that he didn’t need commentary on Clay’s actions on the toilet, but a second moan and a strangled whimper caused him to pivot. “Clay?”

Pain-filled eyes met Sonny’s gaze. “Hurts. Knife stabbing in my back. Arrrgghhh!” Clay bent over and unexpectedly threw up.

“TRENT! TRENT! BATHROOM NOW!” Sonny bellowed as he grabbed a towel off the rack to toss over the mess on the floor and the little trashcan for Clay to hurl into.

Unable to keep silent, the pain more intense than anything he ever experienced, including being hooked, Clay let loose an unbridled string of foul words interspersed with cries after he quit upchucking.

“What happened?” Trent asked, beginning to feel like he said that way too often lately, particularly in relation to the kid.

“He was fine one minute, started to pee, then in pain and throwing up the next moment.” Sonny made room for Trent.

“Describe your pain, Clay. Where does it hurt?” Trent knelt.

“Back … sort of … fucking burning knife twisting. Morphine … give me morphine,” Clay begged.

Trent’s eyes widened as they met Sonny’s unprepared for that request. “Sorry, can’t give you opioids or anything until I figure out what is causing the pain. It started to hurt when you peed?”

“Yes.” Clay panted, bent in half, pushing his fist into his lower back as he began to shiver and sweat.

“What is it?” Sonny asked as he reached for his phone. “Should I call Jason?”

Clay’s continued moaning told Trent the kid needed relief. Spenser never asked for painkillers … and knew the risks of receiving morphine. For him to be begging now meant it must be excruciating. His mind lit upon a possible cause. “Call Jace. We need to take Clay to the hospital.”

“NO!” Clay managed to respond.

“Yes. Sorry, no choice this time. You need an ultrasound of your kidneys.” Trent turned back to Sonny. “Tell Jace to call Dr. Irving. I think the kid has a kidney stone and we need a urologist that Irving trusts.”

“Got it.” Sonny dialed, and after a brief explanation, he hung up and refocused on Clay. “Gonna help dress you. Okay?”

Clay only moaned in agony, at this point, he didn’t give a damn if anyone touched him. He was tremoring, sweating, upchucking, swirling, and believed he might die from the pain … wished Trent would shoot him full of morphine or whatever would stop the unending agony.

* * *

** _Hospital – ER – Room 10_ **

Jason arrived at the emergency room before Trent’s car pulled up, driven by Dawn with Trent, Sonny, and Clay in the back. The kid was an unsightly and stinking mess. His short, black, oily hair lay plastered to his head. His unshaven beard had bits of puke in it, and his shorts were covered in regurgitated dinner too, as well as his socks. Clay moaned and gagged, as Sonny held his sweat-drenched, tremoring, shirtless upper body in his arms while mumbled things Jason didn’t catch when he opened the door.

Trent and Sonny weren’t in much better shape. Their hair stuck up at odd angles, they wore shorts and t-shirts but no shoes. Trent’s shirt was actually on inside out and backward, denoting their medic’s sole focus was Clay. Their pale faces unveiled their concern.

Having arrived before them, Jason arranged for a gurney to be waiting at the curb. Sonny slid out, holding Clay’s torso, and Trent followed, lifting Clay’s legs. Once inside, all three refused to be removed from Clay's treatment bay but stood back when Dr. Irving arrived in the room and began ordering people to do stuff.

That had been two hours ago, though it felt like an eternity. Luckily, the first thing Irving did was prescribe a painkiller, an antiemetic, and a sedative. When Clay lapsed into unconsciousness, Sonny crumpled into a chair and lowered his head into his hands. He hadn’t moved since. Trent went with Clay when they took him for an ultrasound, and they returned about five minutes ago.

Now they waited for Dr. Irving and the urologist, a Dr. Underwood, to come in and tell them what they found. His eyes stayed on the kid, who remained blissfully unaware and pain-free for now. The nurses had cleaned him up and dressed his lower half in a pair of PJ bottoms, and his top was covered by a gown.

It still jarred Jason every time he caught sight of the black hair. He wondered again if he should offer to shave the kid’s head to remove a visible reminder of his abduction. Jason held off due to Clay’s aversion to touch, but perhaps it might diminish if they could eliminate things that might trigger memories of Tabasi.

Jason straightened as the doctors entered. “How is he?”

David Underwood, took the lead as he said, “The ultrasound showed Mr. Spenser is experiencing pain associated with a kidney stone which lodged in and is blocking his ureter.”

“So, I was right, but he peed fine. I’ve been monitoring his output since he had the urinary infection. Why didn’t he have symptoms until tonight?” Trent asked.

Irving patted Trent’s shoulder, noting the inside out and backward shirt. Sawyer cared for his teammates a great deal, unwavering in his devotion to them. “You didn’t miss anything. We believe the stone dislodged and got stuck this evening.”

“Okay.” Trent sagged against the wall.

“After consulting with Dr. Underwood, I believe it is in Clay’s best interest if we perform a ureteroscopy. Though it is not too large to pass naturally, it would cause him significant discomfort, and we want to avoid that given all he is enduring at present.”

Sonny lifted his head, hating that the kid endured more shit. “What does ure… whatever you called it, entail?”

Dr. Underwood explained in plain language, “No cutting is necessary, and Mr. Spenser will sleep through the procedure. I will use a thin, flexible scope passed through his bladder and ureter to find and remove the stone. We only need to wait for him to rouse to give his consent for the surgery. It is typically an outpatient procedure, so he will be able to go home once I’m finished.”

Raking a hand through his hair, Jason never wanted to witness Clay in the previous state again. “I’m his medical proxy. Do the procedure.”

Sonny’s eyes whipped to Jason. “When did that happen?”

“In Rota. He asked. I agreed.” Jason didn’t share more. He had been surprised when Clay asked him and said he trusted his judgment. But the more he thought on it, the request made sense. The kid had no family except Bravo. He suggested Clay also ask Blackburn, that way if he was not able to … well, if the unthinkable happened and he was dead, the kid needed a backup proxy.

“This isn’t urgent; we can wait for him to agree.” Underwood eyed the three men who made an unbelievable stink about staying with Spenser. He did wonder why his colleague bent the rules and allowed them to remain.

“A nurse will be into prep him in a few minutes. Dr. Underwood, please come with me.” Irving ushered him out before Bravo ripped the urologist a new one for even suggesting they wait and allow Clay to wake in potential pain just to garner agreement. Underwood didn’t understand these men, and if Jason said Clay gave him proxy, then he did … end of discussion. Though he would need to ensure that little piece got documented in case, he was not around to smooth things over.

* * *

_ **Trent’s Home – Guest Room** _

Afternoon sunlight filtered through the partially open blinds, and shadows of the leaves on the oak tree outside, danced in the light summer breeze making patterns on the wall. When Clay opened his eyes, he stared at said wall, entranced by the display. For once, he didn’t feel any pain, he sort of floated in a soft, fuzzy, unreal world.

Ray poked his head in, checking for the umpteenth time if Clay had woken up while Trent, Jason, and Sonny crashed in other rooms. After the phone call he received at seven o’clock, asking him to come over and informing him of what occurred in the wee hours of the morning, his plans for a picnic with his kids today changed.

Thankfully, Naima was unperturbed, and in fact, she urged him to go. She said the others were taking most the burden and he needed to be there to help Clay. Jace looked like shit when he answered the door, and Trent and Sonny appeared zombie-like with dark circles under their eyes. It became clear none of them had gotten much sleep in the last week, while he slept soundly every night with Naima in his arms.

It was indeed his turn to step up and share the responsibility of taking care of Clay. Fortunately, the ureteroscopy went off without a hitch, uneventful, and they removed the only stone. Irving dosed up the kid with a sedative to ensure he got a full eight hours of undisturbed sleep after Dr. Underwood finished.

He noted Clay’s eyes open and stepped in. Keeping his tone calm and soft, Ray said, “You’re awake. You hungry?”

Rotating his head, Clay peered at Ray. “When did you get here?” Then he realized Sonny wasn’t in the room, and his heart sped up.

“Seven hours ago.” At the panic creeping into the kid’s expression, Ray moved close to the mattress and took a knee to be eye-level. “Breathe. Sonny is sleeping on the couch. I can get him if you need him. He made me promise to wake him if you did.”

Exhaling heavily, Clay blinked a few times as he wrestled his fear into submission, Sonny was close if he needed him. “What time is it?”

“A little after three.”

Still a bit floaty, Clay said, “Can I ask you something?”

Ray took a seat on the floor. “Sure.”

“Did I puke in the bathroom last night or did I dream it?”

“You don’t recall?”

“Not really. Something vague and hazy. Thought it might be a nightmare. Ungodly pain. Worse than being hooked or electrocuted.”

Ray blanched. “Yeah, Naima said kidney stones are the worst pain a man can ever feel because we can’t go through labor.”

“Stones?”

“Don’t worry. You slept through them, taking it out. Won’t be causing you any more pain.”

“I don’t even remember going to the hospital.”

“Sonny said you were really out of it. Begged for morphine.”

Clay’s brows shot up.

“Yeah. Must’ve been excruciating for you to ask for that. And no, no one gave you any. We know you worry about addiction.” Sensing he should change the subject, Ray offered, “So, you want something to eat? I can make you a sandwich, scrambled eggs, or a chocolate protein shake.”

“I can wait until dinner.”

“Don’t want you becoming underweight. Been almost a day since you last ate. I’m happy to make you anything you want.”

“Ray?”

“Yeah?”

“If I ask you something, will you give me the unvarnished truth?”

“What do you want to know?”

“Will you be honest?”

“You have to ask?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, then I promise to answer if I can … honestly.”

Clay swallowed the lump in his throat. “Why does God hate me?”

Of all the questions Ray could’ve even contemplated Clay asking, this was not one of them. “You think he hates you?”

“My life sucks. Every time … everything, everyone, I value is taken away … somehow, some way. I’m going to be kicked off Bravo and perhaps out of the Navy all together.”

“Why do you think you are leaving Bravo?”

“Come on … just look at me. I can’t keep my shit together. I’m broken.”

Though he was uncertain if he should, Ray reached out and lay a hand over Clay’s heart. “You might be a little bent, but you are not broken. We will fight for you until you are well enough to fight for yourself no matter how long it takes. We will never abandon you. You are family. God loves you. We love you, brother.”

Unwanted tears filled Clay’s eyes. He turned to the wall, trying to blink them away, ashamed he couldn’t control his emotions.

Ray rose and grabbed a tissue before sitting on the edge of the bed. He wiped at Clay’s eyes. “You wanted the truth from me. Well, here it is brother, you’re going to get through this. We have your back, and there is no shame in leaning on us. We don’t see you as any less of a man or operator.

“Hell, you’ve endured more than the rest of us combined. You are strong, capable, and in your words, you’re gonna get your shit together. Give yourself the same consideration you would give any of your brothers. Don’t judge yourself so harshly … there is nothing wrong with tears or emotions. You only need a little time to sort through the stuff going on in your head.”

Ray drew in a deep breath and smiled as he exhaled when Clay met his eyes. “Now, how about something to eat? If you’re tired of smoothies, I can make you my ultimate bacon cheeseburger. Comes in second only to Sonny’s famous barbeque.”

“Burger sounds good.” Clay breathed out, endeavoring to take Ray’s words to heart, though he was still lost and navigating uncharted waters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had kidney stones and had three babies, yes, passing stones are almost as painful as giving birth. I did take fictional license with the stone formation though ... no idea how long they take to form, but dehydration is thought to be one cause. 
> 
> Brock and Cerb will be making an appearance in the next chapter. And I do have a shower scene brewing in my head for those that want it, it will be full of angst ... becasue hey, the kid was blown up in a shower, and drowned in a bath ... so he has issues now.


	4. Unexpected Yet Heartwarming

_ **Two Days Later – Bravo Team Room** _

“No! Absolutely not.” Jason crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Blackburn, unwilling to accept what he heard.

“Not a request. This comes down from above.” Rubbing the back of his neck, a tension headache which started a week ago had not been alleviated by any meds. Nothing short of the orders evaporating would relieve Eric's misery.

“No!”

“Yes,” Eric repeated, as unhappy with the situation as Jason.

Shaking his head, Jason began to pace. “He’s not ready for Sonny to leave him. You said two weeks. You gave us the option to stay and train Green Team. Sonny was thinking of taking that option. Would allow him to be here for the kid.”

Eric’s brows shot up. “Sonny willingly staying here and training.”

“Yeah. I know. Hell must’ve experienced a blizzard, but he would do anything for Clay. They’re tight. Sonny’s always been a bit of a loner and wildcard … Clay changed him.”

“Jason, my hands are tied. I took this up the chain, through Harrington, and even to Droit. Someone above the admiral is pulling the strings. Someone with political clout. They want you, Ray, and Sonny to deploy with Alpha to deal with the situation in Uruguay.”

“Full Metal’s team is more than capable of doing this on their own.”

“I’m well aware. That was one of my main arguments. Got shot down. You’re wheels up in six hours. It will be your careers if all three of you aren’t on the plane.”

Jason’s mind searched for a solution, a way to ensure Clay’s security blanket, one in the shape of a burly Texan, remained close to him. “What if Quinn is ill?”

“Would require sign-off from Dr. Irving. He goes to great lengths to bend the rules for your team, but I’m unwilling to ask Irving to break them and risk his career or his integrity.”

“We’ll lose Sonny if he is forced to go. He’ll do something incredibly stupid.” Jason racked his brain for another way to resolve this unholy quandary. They might lose Spenser if Sonny went, and if he didn’t go, Sonny might be dishonorably discharged. A no-win situation.

Eric drew in a breath, hating the next piece of information he had to share, realizing this just might throw Jason off the deep-end. “We have another issue to deal with too.”

“What?” Jason gave Blackburn his attention, even though he had only a couple of hours to find a way for Sonny to remain here. He refused to lose either Bravo Three or Six. There was always a way.

“They’ve scheduled a psychologist’s visit for Clay tomorrow.”

“Change it.”

“I can’t.”

“He’s not ready.”

“I’m aware. Again, I took it up the chain and pushed it back twice already. They wanted him the day we landed, and three days ago. Suspicions we are hiding something are being thrown around. We are, but, hell, Jace, the kid probably needs a shrink given his reactions. She might help.”

Jason’s day tumbled into a vat of acid. He burned inside and out. “Is someone deliberately targeting my team? Is Shaw trying to break us up again?”

“Don’t know. Could just be how the cards are falling at the moment.” Eric held out his hand with a slip of paper. “This is where and when Clay needs to be tomorrow.”

Peering at the paper like it was a viper ready to strike, Jason noted the name and address. “Not a Navy psychologist. What the hell?”

“No. Again, we have no choice in this matter. Civilian, but she has been vetted and read in on the details of his abduction and rescue. Dr. Upchurch often works with the CIA and FBI. She specializes in helping former hostages.”

“I don’t like this. Not at all.” Jason snagged the card and shoved it into his pocket.

“Neither do I.” Eric’s shoulders sagged a little. His gut told him he was failing his men, though he tried every trick in his bag to change the course of events unfolding.

Though irritated, Jason noticed the change in Blackburn and a bit of guilt crept in uninvited. “Thanks for trying…”

“Sorry, it wasn’t enough.”

The apology pierced Jason. “Nothing to be sorry about. We are in the Navy. And as much as I hate orders sometimes, we have a duty to follow them. As you’ve reminded me on occasion.”

A little of the weight bearing down on him lifted and Eric nodded. “Trent and Brock will still be here, so Clay won’t be totally alone like when we were in Manila. He’s a strong kid, he’s gonna be fine.”

Jason snorted. “Yeah, he’s fine already. Fucked-up. Insecure. Nervous. Emotional.”

Eric gave a slight nod as Jason pivoted and strode out. This situation was so damned FUBAR that he didn’t know if Bravo would exist in its current rendition come tomorrow. Hell, make that six hours from now if Sonny went UA. Eric busied his mind with how to fix things if Sonny chose the unauthorize absence route.

* * *

_ **Trent’s Home – Family Room** _

It had been too long since Cerb saw his boy, nine unbearable days. When Brock said ‘car ride’ today, Cerb became excited knowing for a fact where they were headed when Brock’s mate, a pretty lady, as far as humans went, asked if they should stop and pick up Clay’s favorite treat. Brock kissed her, and they stopped at the market to load up on all kinds of yummy smelling stuff. The steak he was tempted to snag, but he was a good boy, so he left it alone.

Upon arriving at Trent’s home, Cerberus bolted inside, not wasting any time as he hopped up on the couch to claim his rightful place next to Clay. Unfortunately, he found a usurper in his place. Cerb emitted a soft, low growl to make everyone aware he was unhappy and tried to bite the unknown intruder.

“Cerb, leave it,” Brock ordered as he lowered himself into a chair, glad to be out of his house and finally able to come in person to check on Clay. Though he had daily phone contact with most of the team, and Jason or Ray alternated stopping by his place, he wanted to see the kid himself.

What he laid eyes on worried him. Jason’s description of the panic attacks and downward spiral now held new meaning. The sunken, hollow eyes denoted little sleep, though the kid couldn’t do anything except laze about. Spenser was an unkempt mess, and his aversion to touch appeared to remain unabated. He got a whiff of him from across the room and realized showering must still be an issue. Brock wondered if they could actually help him through this crisis.

Thankfully, Clay allowed Sonny to help him, and from the last report, he appeared to be warming up to Trent. An expected outcome since Trent began passive range of motion exercises on Clay’s arms and legs and tended to the almost healed abrasions and burns on his wrists and ankles daily.

Brock eyed Cerb, making sure he behaved, surprised by his growl and attempt to decapitate an inanimate object. Once satisfied, he turned his attention to Ray who offered him a beer and to Sonny who was entertaining everyone with tale about losing a bet in high school and having to play the ukulele in a unitard while attempting to ride a unicycle, which might or might not be unabashedly entirely made up to garner a laugh. It didn’t matter if it was untrue because it created a slight upturn on Clay’s face. A shadow of the smile the kid would normally display at Sonny’s unbelievable stories.

Though he didn’t want to leave it alone, Cerb obeyed Brock and rested his head in Clay’s lap as Sonny yammered on. He glared at the beady-eyed, fluffy usurper sitting on his boy’s other side, upset the ugly entity encroached on his territory. The thing stank worse than his boy, and that was saying something, ‘cause boy, oh boy, did Clay reek.

One reason Cerb didn’t act on his urge to tear the disgusting, gray creature apart is he sensed his packmate was in trouble. Beyond the foul body odor, which he’d sniffed before in the field when they worked long missions, something didn’t smell right. His boy had been hurt before, many times, but he never emitted a scent like this … something terrible and dark … nasty and scary … desolate and shattered.

Cerb didn’t understand and glanced at Brock for answers. From the expression on Brock’s face, neither did he. His brown orbs returned to Clay and studied him, trying to uncover the reason. He tilted his head to the side and sniffed again, hoping another whiff might give him a clue as to what was wrong and how to help. His ears twitched when he caught a slight hitch in his boy’s breathing. “Bark, ruff, ruff, yip.” _Something’s wrong. Help him. _

As Clay’s body began to shake violently, his breathing became uneven. _Crap, not again._ Clay prepared to ride out the panic attack, still unsure what brought them on. He had been enjoying Sonny’s tale. Shuddering, his fingers clamped on Sammy, seeking a tether to keep from drowning in the waves of emotions which left him wasted afterward.

Cerb moved, Brock yelled at him to get off, but he didn’t care. He placed his paws on Clay’s shoulders, put his full body over his boy’s chest and nuzzled as close as he could, licking Clay’s cheek.

Clay’s tremors slowed and dissipated in moments rather than minutes as Cerb lay atop him. His breathing returned to normal, and he drew in a sharp breath as he uncurled his fingers from the seal, wrapping both hands around Cerb, abandoning Sammy for the warmth and security the hair missile provided.

Brock backed away. His hand had almost reached Cerb’s collar, ready to yank him off. Brock’s gaze met Trent’s, Sonny’s, and Ray’s, noting they all were as shocked as him. He resumed his seat and exhaled heavily.

“Well, I’ll be damned. Cerb’s a therapy dog,” Sonny drawled.

“Think he just earned a steak dinner,” Trent quipped, a smile forming.

Ray grinned as he took in the unusual yet heartwarming sight. “Unconditional love only a dog can give.”

Calming, his pulse slowing to a regular rate, Clay whispered, “Good boy. Thanks, buddy.” He leaned his head into the soft fur and let out a ragged sigh as he petted Cerb.

Sonny stood, a broad grin on his face as he started for the sliding patio door, believing Clay would be content with Cerb by his side if he left the room. Trent’s new digs, meant they still had two places to have get-togethers after Jason sold his house. Ray and Naima wouldn’t have to shoulder the burden of all team parties in their backyard. “Jason should be here soon, so I’ll start the grill.”

* * *

_ **Trent’s Home – Backyard** _

Clay sat on the lounge chair, with Cerb at his feet, and a plate of cut-up steak and cowboy beans on his lap. With Trent’s help the last few days, his range of motion increased, and he could now lift his arms shoulder height without pain and he could, with loads of effort transfer himself from bed to chair to the toilet and back … so he achieved a bit of independence. Next week he would be starting physical therapy at the base with Brock and Trent.

He didn’t relish the idea of leaving Trent’s house, not until he gained control over the damned panic attacks. It would be mortifying if one occurred in front of other teams … and it would likely mean an immediate discharge for PTSD. Clay understood Trent was trying to arrange a private room for them, but that was unlikely … a long shot at best.

Clay peered at Cerb, and his first real grin appeared as he thought about how quickly he quit shaking when Cerb essentially hugged him. He tossed a piece of steak to the pup. “Wanna come to PT with me?” Clay didn’t expect an answer, but the thought had merit. He would talk to Trent and Brock a little later … perhaps the hair missile could accompany them.

When the patio door slid open, Clay turned to find Jason. They started eating when he had not shown up earlier. Ray called Jason to find out the reason for his delay and only told them Jason had to take care of a few things. His team leader headed directly for him, and Clay could tell by the way he rubbed his thigh, something was bothering him.

Jason spotted Clay first. He hated to ruin the afternoon. This was the first time the kid appeared somewhat relaxed, and he was about to unhinge everyone. He halted and motioned to the others to join him. When they gathered around, he cut to the chase, “Ray, Sonny, and I have been spun up. We’re wheels up in four hours.”

“NO! Jace, we had two weeks. Blackburn said we could choose to stay and train Green Team.” Sonny didn’t say what everyone knew; _Clay needs me here._

“He tried. Cake-eaters above him tied his hands.” Jason eyed Sonny.

“I’m not going. I’m sick … got food poisoning or something.”

Clay gaped at Sonny. The response, not something he would ever hear out of Quinn’s mouth.

Trent nodded. “Sounds about right. Undercooked chicken—”

“STOP! Blackburn ran this up the chain of command and was shot down. Any fabricated excuse will be scrutinized and result in discipline.”

Sonny opened his mouth to tell them he would risk whatever punishment the cake-eaters dished out, but paused and turned to Clay when the kid spoke.

“You got to go. Don’t ruin your career ‘cause I can’t keep my shit together. I can’t be the reason …” Clay trailed off as he met Sonny’s eyes. It scared the hell out of him to be without Sonny, but he was still man enough to want to protect his brother’s livelihood. He would be unable to live with himself otherwise.

“There’s more, and we have work to do before we leave.” Jason focused on Clay.

“What kind of work?” Brock asked, confused.

Jason crouched to be eye level with Clay, and his expression softened. “Kid, you’re gonna need to find your way faster than expected. Blackburn pushed your psych appointment back twice but is unable to do so again due to pressure from above. You’re meeting with Dr. Upchurch, a civilian shrink, tomorrow morning at ten.”

Cerb swiftly moved up Clay, totally ignoring the steak and beans, planting himself on his boy’s lap when the strange odor emanated from him again. He nuzzled his head into the crook of Clay’s neck.

The panic started to come over Clay, but upon wrapping a hand around Cerb, it dissipated before he did more than tremor slightly. “I’m screwed. I’ll be kicked off Bravo.”

“Hey, none of that. You can fake it until you make it, brother,” Ray said, hoping that would be true.

“I can’t control the shakes … yet.”

Sonny peered at Cerb noting the calming effect he had on Clay. “Take Cerb with you. We can think of some excuse for him to be there.”

Brock’s brows rose, but he nodded. “He needs a bath.”

“Yeah, the shrink won’t be fooled if Clay shows up smelling like last week’s dinner.” Ray wondered how they would get him to shower.

“No, well, yeah that too, but I meant Cerb. He’s covered in spicy bean sauce and steak juices.” Brock noted the messy fur.

Jason maintained a steady gaze on Clay. “Ray’s right. You need to take a shower. Trent says you have enough ROM to handle everything yourself except washing your hair. I have a solution if you will allow.”

The ability to transfer by himself to the shower chair and wash himself, helped reduce Clay’s aversion to bathing, so he asked, “What?”

“How about Sonny or me shave your head?”

“Naima would be willing to give you a buzz cut. She cuts my hair for me, and she won’t leave you completely bald.” Ray offered with a chuckle. A bald Clay would be worse than a black-haired Clay with his current haggard appearance. He would look like some concentration camp survivor … not an image the psychologist needed to have in her head when assessing Clay.

Clay realized he must quit wallowing if he was going to get his life back. Around him stood five brothers willing to go to the ends of the earth for him. They shielded him as long as they could. Taking Cerb with him had promise, especially since his shaking halted when the pup was close to him. Sucking in an unsteady breath, Clay took the first step forward. “If Naima is willing, I’d appreciate getting rid of the reminder of, well, what occurred.”

“Great. I’ll call her now.” Ray stepped away to speak privately with his wife.

Jason rose, pleasantly surprised things turned out differently than he anticipated, and proud of the team’s united front and how Clay approached the issue. It gave him hope the kid might be turning the corner and on the mend. He glanced at Brock, noting his arm still in a sling. “Sonny and I will take care of bathing Cerb before we leave.”

“Brock, I still have some of Cerb’s shampoo under the kitchen sink, and you can use the gray towels in the linen closet.” Trent turned his gaze to Clay. “I’m going to refill your plate. You need your strength, and tonight I’m giving you a mild sedative, so you are well-rested tomorrow.”

Clay nodded as the guys moved off to gather supplies. He continued to pet Cerb as an unquestionable calm rolled through him, giving him hope he might be alright, and actually make it back to Bravo. Not wanting the steak to go to waste, and believing the hair missile deserved a treat, Clay fed the pieces to his unique, living, breathing, and fuzzy security blanket.

* * *

_ **Trent’s Home – Guest Room** _

Thoroughly spent, but freshly washed and dressed in a comfortable t-shirt and shorts, Clay rested on the edge of the bed, his legs dangling and free of the removable splints until Trent came to put them back on. He stared at the fading yellowish-greenish bruising which ran the length of his shins, glad for only hairline fractures and not full-on broken bones. Recovery time would be measured in weeks, not months.

He struggled to keep his eyes open, wanting to say bye to Jason, Ray, and Sonny before they headed out on the mission to some unknown location for an unknown reason … he wasn’t going so he didn’t receive the details. At the light knock on the door, Clay called out, “Enter.”

Jason came in and shut the bedroom door behind him. He took a seat on the rolling chair and studied Clay a moment. Naima went above and beyond, coming up with a solution none of them had thought about. She brought hair dye in a shade comparable to Clay’s natural color, and the kid let her work her magic. His hair was shorn to a manageable length for him given his current restricted movement, shorter than normal but not a buzz cut. Naima’s solution would help Clay present a better image to the psychologist. 

“Hair looks good.”

Clay nodded. “Yeah. Glad to get rid of the black. Where’s Sonny and Ray?”

“They’ll be along in a minute. Wanted a private word with you.”

“Okay.”

Jason sat back and blew out a breath. “I’m sorry you aren’t being given the time you need. I wish I knew more than what I shared with you earlier about this Dr. Upchurch. The reason I was delayed is I asked Mandy to look into her. Unfortunately, she couldn’t tell me any more than what Blackburn conveyed.”

“It’s alright, Jace. This isn’t on you. I’ll work the problem.”

Leaning forward, placing his elbows on his thighs, and clasping his hands, Jason connected with Clay’s eyes. Vulnerability shone in the blue orbs, but so did a filament of determination. “You’re gonna be leading your own team one day. There is no doubt in my mind. You’ve been knocked for a loop before. Never known a stronger person than you.

“No matter what this psychologist might put in her report, I’m not letting you leave Bravo. Like you said in Manila … six brothers, one heartbeat. You’ve faced taller mountains and reached the summit. You got this, Kid.”

Jason stood and tousled the kid’s shorter locks, which still held a hint of a curl. “You’re family. We fight for family. We will fight for you. We never leave a man behind. Never.”

Clay didn’t flinch at Jason’s fatherly gesture but didn’t know how to respond with words, so only nodded.

Another rap on his door brought Ray’s head peeking in before he switched places with Jason for a private chat. “Trent, Brock and I talked. We figured out something which should work for Cerb to end up with you in Dr. Upchurch’s office. Also, Brock is planning on staying here.”

“He doesn’t have to.”

“You’re right, but it’s his choice, and he wants to be here for you.” Ray grinned. “Plus, undoubtedly Cerb will refuse to go home. He’s adopted you. You’re his packmate, and he is protective.”

“He’s Brock’s dog.”

“True, but are you aware Cerb snagged one of your shirts and Brock let him keep it in his kennel?”

“Huh? No. When?” Clay had noted t-shirts in Cerb’s bedding but assumed they belonged to Brock.

“After Tibet.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Ray placed a hand on Clay’s shoulder, glad the flinch was only slight. “Keep faith, Brother. This too shall pass, and you will be operating with us again.”

Again, Clay could only nod as Sonny barged in. Soon only the two of them were in the room, and Sonny spun the chair to straddle it, resting his forearms on the back. “Well, little buddy.”

Dipping his head and dropping his eyes, Clay murmured, “Thanks for everything. Not sure I’d be where I am now without you.”

“Hey. You’d do the same thing for me … in a heartbeat.” Sonny reached to his back pocket and pulled out the hat he stuffed there before coming in. He set it in Clay’s lap. “Need you to hold on to this for me.”

Clay stared at Sonny’s lucky hat, the one he hung on the sub tube when his brother was stuck, and they thought they’d lose him. Raising his eyes, blue met blue. “Why?”

“Thought you could take it with you tomorrow. Always been lucky for me. Plus it will cover up Naima’s dye job.”

“Hey, it looks better than black.”

Sonny smiled and quipped, “Good thing you’re a blond, ‘cause someone might think I’m racist if I called you Blackie.”

Clay chuckled.

Sonny’s grin broadened, relieved to hear the laugh which had been missing for too long. “You did good, Kid. You did your part and held on until we found you. Trust me. Everything else will work itself out.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“I am. Doubly. So, I’ll be certain for both of us until you’re ready to be sure for yourself.”

A twinge of fear began to build as Clay asked, “Where are you going? Wait, never mind. Sucks not going with you.”

Sonny nodded. “Ditto … only reverse. You let Trent and Brock help you if you need anything. They’re your brothers and care about you as much as me. You’re safe with them.”

Clay inhaled deeply and exhaled gradually. “Yeah, I know.”

Sonny leaned in close and whispered, “You need to ask Trent about the Twilight Zone?”

“Huh? Why do I need to ask him about an old TV program?”

“Just do it when you two are alone. I guarantee you’ll find it interesting. Gotta go now.” He rose from his seat and bent over to give the kid a quick one-armed hug.

Clay almost teared up and said, _don’t go_, but taking necessary steps to regain his manhood, he said, “Give ‘em hell.”

Not wanting to leave Clay in such a vulnerable state, but knowing he must go when and where duty called, Sonny replied, “Always do.” When Sonny opened the door, a squeaky-clean and groomed furball squeezed in, hopped up on the bed beside Clay, and laid his head in his boy’s lap. Sonny took one last glance back, noting Clay’s hand moving to pet Cerb. _He’s gonna be alright. I won’t let my kid brother fall or leave him behind. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evil muse took a break in this chapter but vows to come back in the next one.


	5. Dr. Upchurch

_ **Dr. Upchurch’s Office** _

Clay’s hand rested on Cerb’s head which settled on his thigh after they entered the waiting room. He didn’t believe the ruse would work, but he decided to go along with it because it was his only chance at faking it through the assessment without shaking like a leaf in a hurricane. His fingers curled in Cerb’s fur, seeking respite from his unrelenting sense of doom.

After several deep sniper breaths to regulate his uneven heart rate, Clay glanced at Trent who offered to fill out the intake form for him. Although it shouldn’t surprise him, it did when he noted Trent provided everything from his birthdate, to his address, and included his current medications and history of injuries. Dr. Upchurch would be flipping to the backside to read the full details because they didn’t fit in the three lines provided on the front.

Trent gave Clay a sideways glance. “That should about do it. How are you feeling?”

Clay only arched his brows.

“Yeah, right. That’s a shrink’s question. What I meant is, what’s your pain level? Transferring yourself to and from the car took some effort.”

“I’m good.”

A door opened, and a woman in a black pencil skirt and white blouse with her hair pulled back and up in a tight bun, peered into the reception area with a lemon-puss expression. “Mr. Spenser?”

Trent rose and set the clipboard in Clay’s lap before gripping the handles of the wheelchair. Cerb, whose leash was clipped to Trent’s belt loop, trotted beside them.

“Dogs aren’t allowed,” she spat in an unkind tone.

Quelling his desire to snap back in the same unfriendly manner, Trent instead flashed her a smile, hiding the fact he found her attitude repellent. “No worries, Cerberus isn’t staying, I’m only taking Clay in and then we’re leaving. I’ll be back to pick Clay up after his appointment.”

Her face curling in disgust, she sniped, “So long as the mangy mutt leaves with you. Follow me.” Her high-heels click-clacked as she led them down a narrow corridor with doors on either side until they reached the last one. She opened the door and pointed inside. “Wait here. Dr. Upchurch will be with you soon.”

Trent pushed Clay inside and the door shut behind him with a bang which caused Clay to jerk and Trent to scowl. Trent wiped the expression from his face as he positioned Clay facing a chair with an unobstructed view of the exit. He whispered, “Ready?”

“Not really, but got no choice. Hope the shrink isn’t as unpleasant as her help.” His hand sought out Cerb who positioned himself as before with his head resting on his leg.

Cerb gazed up at his boy. Brock told him to protect, so he would do exactly that. No one would harm his boy without going through vicious canines first. He wouldn’t hesitate to sink his fangs into anyone’s arms or legs to safeguard the youngest pack member. Biting Cruella Deville would be first on his list for calling him a mangy mutt. He was clean and well-brushed, thanks to Jason and Sonny.

“Me too. Remember, Brock is monitoring your GPS tracker, and if you need me, press the panic button, and I’ll be in here in seconds flat.” Trent unclipped Cerb’s bungee cord leash in preparation for his exit.

Clay’s free hand went from fingering the small device in his pocket to his stomach. He couldn’t believe when he sat down for breakfast this morning that next to his bowl of cereal was a tiny ingestible GPS tracker which would stay in his system for up to seventy-two hours before being eliminated. As he swallowed it, Clay wondered if electronic tracking devices would become a standard part of his diet if he managed to beat the odds and return to Bravo. All in all, he figured they would be preferable to an implanted one and would give him and the guys peace of mind during missions.

The door opening halted his thoughts, and Clay turned to get his first view of Dr. Upchurch. What he envisioned didn’t match reality. For some reason, with the name Upchurch, he thought she would be uptight and stiff, like the woman who escorted them back. The opposite was true. She breezed in with a smile, wearing an understated casual outfit of khaki slacks with a pale blue blouse, and flats.

Clay’s eyes drank in a woman not much older than himself, who possessed light brown hair which softly framed her face in riotous curls which stopped at her collar. Her peaches and cream complexion highlighted her bright green eyes and unexpectedly drew him in. He wished she weren’t his psychologist because quite frankly, if he met her in a bar, he would ask her out.

“Good morning, Mr. Spenser, I’m Dr. Veronica Upchurch.” Her eyes moved to the team dog, noting Spenser’s hold, and she grasped the reason for his presence, the animal provided him a sense of safety. “What a handsome dog. A Malinois if I’m not mistaken. He is welcome to stay if you want.” She turned to Spenser’s teammate. “Sorry, but I must ask you to leave. You may wait in the other room.”

Trent and Clay shared a glance, and Trent grinned. He didn’t need to fake needing to throw up and rushing out of the room, leaving Cerb with Clay. He picked up the clipboard, closed the distance between him and Upchurch to hand it to her as he said, “I’ll be waiting.” Trent paused at the door, making sure Clay was okay with him exiting, and when he received a slight nod, he pivoted and shut the door on his way out.

Veronica gracefully glided towards the desk and set the folder she carried in and the unnecessary intake form down then changed directions and lowered herself in the chair facing her patient instead of sitting behind the unfamiliar desk. The nature of her work required her to travel, so she didn’t maintain her own office and rented space as needed in whatever city she found herself in.

Taking a moment to assess her patient’s physical condition, Veronica was struck by his haggard countenance and the flash of trepidation in his blue eyes. The dark circles underneath his eyes bespoke of difficulty sleeping, and the hollows of his cheeks indicated he was not eating enough to reestablish a healthy weight. She noted his hair had been restored to its natural color, which she chalked up on the plus side and revealed the caring nature of someone in his life.

Veronica enjoyed her job and hoped to help this young SEAL come to terms with a terrible event in his life and return to his team. The delicate matter came to her directly from Admiral Droit with specific instructions … as usual. Under the guise of being a civilian psychologist, her true role in black ops allowed her to be selective with what she entered in his psych jacket. Droit made it clear she make no mention of the sexual assault in her notes, and the physical evidence of such, found by the medical staff who initially treated the sailor after he was rescued, had been scrubbed from his official medical jacket.

She understood maintaining Spenser’s privacy had been somewhat difficult, and the doctors had used the urinary infection to keep him at Bagram hospital to buy time to arrange things here at home and to draw blood to run HIV and STI tests. They also attempted to determine whether Spenser was cognizant of the assault, without asking him directly. It was highly likely he might not be fully aware of what occurred to him due to the cocktail of drugs found in his system upon his arrival.

However, his aversion to being touched told Veronica that on some level, Spenser might be aware but suppressing the ungodly memory. He may have disassociated enough while being tortured, as he was trained to do, that if he had an inkling of the assault, his unconscious mind took over and hid it from him to protect him from the unthinkable.

The Navy invested millions in training top-tier SEALs, and as such, they didn’t want to lose one if his recovery, both mind and body, could be accomplished. She perceived from her brief discussion about Spenser with Admiral Droit, this young man had earned the admiral’s esteem, and he would do anything short of murder to ensure Spenser recovered. The dossier she received on Bravo also indicated the six men and dog were tighter than any team she ever encountered, and Clay would be well-served by their closeness.

Veronica offered a slight smile as she positioned her body to communicate openness. “Before we begin, I want you to know your sessions will be completely confidential. Anything you say here stays between you and me.”

Clay blinked, focusing on the plural use of session and missing the last sentence entirely. “Sessions? More than one?”

“Yes. You went through a traumatic event, and in my experience, it takes time to build trust and work through your emotions. To put this in perspective, how many physical therapy sessions did you go through when you rehabbed your legs after the bomb in Manila?”

“Don’t know … more than a hundred probably.” Clay cringed at the thought of multiple psych sessions.

Veronica nodded. “The mind is the most complex organ in our body, so doesn’t it make sense that one hour of talking isn’t going to resolve the trauma of being abducted and subjected to torture?”

“I guess.”

“Clay, may I call you Clay?”

“Yeah.”

“Clay, my primary goal is to assist you through this and help you move forward.” Her gaze turned to her desk, and the folder for a moment before returning to Clay. “I have been fully briefed on the mission in Simir which prompted to your abduction, the kidnapping in Zermatt, the rescue mission, and the medical reports from Dr. Irving.”

“How did a civilian get clearance at that level?” Clay’s fingers clamped on Cerb as his unease increased.

Cerb put one paw on his boy as the dark scent began to grow, ready to jump up if needed to chase it away.

“I expected your question and received clearance to share something with you. What I’m about to tell you, must remain between us.”

“Okay.” Clay exhaled an unsteady breath.

“I work in a covert capacity for the Navy and have top-secret clearance. They paid for my schooling, and when I graduated, I was recruited to work on cases which require the utmost discretion. My reports go directly to Admiral Droit, and no one else is privy to the contents.”

“So why the ruse … as a civilian?”

“Part of my cover.”

“Have you actually worked with the CIA, FBI, and others held hostage?”

Veronica paused before answering, trying to determine the best way to establish rapport with this man. Clay needed a firm basis from which to build trust, so she shared much more than she normally would, bordering on too much information. “I’ve been loaned out from time to time to authenticate my cover, and yes, I specialize in hostage-based trauma. My doctoral thesis was on the impact of SEAL SERE training on sailors, and my results were used to make changes.”

Clay let her disclosure roll around in his head as he petted Cerb, his body beginning to tremor.

“Do you have any more questions for me?” Veronica observed the shakes but didn’t call attention to them when the dog rose up and licked Clay’s cheek before nuzzling his neck. Though she wanted to smile at his intuitive dog, she kept her expression neutral. She decided part of her therapy would be to include meditation techniques so Clay could learn self-calming skills because the team dog wouldn’t be with him at all times.

Meeting the psychologist’s gaze as Cerb comforted him, Clay didn’t read any judgment in her eyes, though it was apparent he needed Cerb to calm himself. His trembling receded, and when he could trust his voice not to wobble, he said, “No.”

“Alright. Let’s get started. As I said, I’ve read the AARs, but I would like to hear in your own words what happened.”

“Where do you want me to start?”

“Wherever you feel comfortable.”

Comfortable was not a term Clay would equate with spilling his guts with a psychologist, but decided to approach this as he would an AAR. Detach emotionally and stick to the facts. He nudged Cerb down but kept a hand on him.

“Intel which led us to Simir was bogus, and we ended up in a trap. I did what was necessary to cover my team until they were clear, and I had to exfil. When I reached my secondary exfil location, tangos were firing on my ride, so I responded, clearing my path.”

Images of the coward driving away and leaving him caused Clay’s gut to churn, and he glossed over the betrayal by jumping to the next part. “The insurgents grabbed me, tied me to a truck, and dragged me before hoisting me up and beating me. My brothers came back for me.” Clay’s eyes dropped to his lap, as he murmured, “Hate that they have to keep saving me.”

Realizing he spoke his internal thought out loud, Clay sucked in a breath. _Damn, so much for not revealing anything._ He lifted his gaze and continued. “Apparently, I killed Tabasi’s three sons and pissed him off. He went to unparalleled lengths to find me and orchestrate my abduction.

“I recall getting on the cable car, Sonny told me to get off, tried to, but the doors closed. I took a seat, was jostled, felt a pinprick on the other side. Guess that is when he first drugged me. I woke somewhere, blindfolded and gagged. Didn’t know his name or why I had been taken at the time, but he told me vengeance was his before injecting more drugs.” His hand moved to his pocket, contemplating pressing the panic button, unsure if he could continue.

As the silence stretched, Veronica noted the heightened agitation. “Would you like a drink?”

Before he could stop himself, Clay said, “I’ll take a whiskey.”

Veronica smiled. “Sorry. Best I can do is cold water.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Clay latched on the offered reprieve from speaking.

As she rose and strode to the tiny fridge near the window, Veronica caught sight of Bravo’s dog handler and almost laughed when he turned away trying not to appear as if he were keeping watch on his teammate … or perhaps it was Cerberus. She returned to Clay and held out the sealed bottle to him, understanding he might balk at taking an opened bottle from a stranger. “Can you mange opening it yourself?”

“Yeah.” Clay inspected the water bottle, making sure the seal was unbroken as a fear niggled in his mind about being drugged. He twisted the cap once satisfied it was untampered with. Clay took his time sipping as the fingers of his other hand continued to card through Cerb’s fur.

When he couldn’t avoid talking longer, Clay found a way to gloss over being undressed and groped on the train. “I tried to escape on the train. The SOB had more than one guard. They tasered me after the asshole called me his son.”

Nausea reared its ugly head, flipping his stomach, and uncontrolled tremors started in earnest. He lost his grip on the bottle. It toppled to the floor, helped along by Cerb who jumped into his lap. Both arms encircled Cerb and Clay hung on for dear life as icy waves of sheer panic and fear tried to drown him.

Cerb’s paw must’ve hit the button in his pocket because the door slammed open and Trent rushed inside. Mortified by coming unhinged in front of the shrink, Clay wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. He further embarrassed himself as he began to gag, Cerb’s calming effect flying out the window as his entire body shook and he upchucked his breakfast.

Clay lost track of time and awareness of himself and things around him. When he finally came back from the fog of panic, he found himself laid out on the couch with a cool, damp rag on his forehead, Cerb on top of him, Trent and Brock kneeling beside him, and Dr. Upchurch sat on the edge of the desk across the room.

His eyes sought Trent’s, and his voice came out wrecked and wretched, “I’m so screwed. She’s gonna report I’m unfit for duty.”

Brock grinned and whispered, “Perhaps not … told her you must’ve eaten something bad.”

Veronica waited a few more moments to give Clay time to recompose himself and allow his teammates to help him sit up before she said, “I believe we have covered enough for today. I will be scheduling additional sessions with you.”

Demoralized and unhappy at his inability to keep his shit together, Clay shook his head. “Don’t bother.”

“Hey—” Trent started to tell him not to give up but stopped as the shrink spoke.

Veronica hated to do this, but she needed to do a reality check with Clay, so stated, “Well, I’ve been told SEALs don’t give up, but if that is the way you want to go, I can submit my report today declaring you unfit for duty and recommending you be discharged from the military.”

Cerb growled as Brock bolted upward and pivoted, focusing his unbridled fury at Upchurch as he barked, “Clay’s not unfit. Where the hell did you get your fucking degree? He’s been through more shit than anyone I know, and he always comes out on top. He only needs a bit of time, but the shit-for-brains cake-eaters got a poker up their assess and forced him into this evaluation before he is even physically ready to return.”

Standing, Trent turned to Upchurch, his expression murderous. “You’re a civilian. You’re not qualified to determine if Clay is fit or unfit. You don’t have a fucking clue what it takes to do our jobs. To run towards danger while others cower and run to safety. I won’t let you ruin Clay’s life. He is an operator’s operator, and you will surely kill him by sending in a report like that as you would if you held a loaded gun to his head and pulled the trigger. Not going to let you do either.”

For several moments, Clay could only gap at the unwavering loyalty of his brothers. His voice small, yet loud enough to be heard in the unnerving silence that descended on the room, Clay said, “Schedule my next appointment.”

Brock and Trent whipped around to stare at Clay like he had grown two additional heads, unaware of what he knew about Upchurch’s credentials and her pull with Admiral Droit. Clay had no choice but to agree if he stood any chance of returning to Bravo.

“How about tomorrow at ten?” Veronica gave Clay a soft smile.

Clay nodded as his brothers now gapped at him. “I’m tired. Can we go home?”

Unsure what the hell the kid was doing, Trent grabbed the wheelchair and moved it close to Clay. “Need help transferring?”

Wholly unmanned, and wanting to leave as fast as possible, he nodded and allowed Trent to lift him into the chair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The shower scene will come ... just not certain when. At first, my evil muse wanted to make the psychologist one of the bad guys, but Clay really needs a strong, well-trained advocate in his corner if he is going to make it back. And well, I figured a female wouldn't be high ranking in the IIB, so we get good Veronica. Ulker will make an appearance at some point and cause trouble for ... (Clay and others?).


	6. Babysitting in Uruguay and Seeking Understanding

_ **Uruguay – United States Embassy – Reception Area** _

Sonny seethed as he stared at the damned senator from Utah they escorted around today. Furious he had been forced to leave Clay for some namby-pamby low-vis babysitting mission Alpha team could do in their sleep. So wound up, he wanted to hit something, Sonny shoved his clenched fists in his pockets instead. His wasn’t an idiot, something was at work, and he wondered if Shaw might be involved after his legs had been cut out from underneath him by Bravo’s actions when they schwacked all those most wanted terrorists.

A pissed off general with a vendetta against Bravo could cause them unwanted problems … like making them leave Clay when he needed them and forcing the psych eval before the kid had even healed physically. Drawn out of his angry thoughts by Ray’s hand on his shoulder, Sonny blew out a breath. “Wonder how the kid did today.”

Ray leaned against the wall as he waited with Sonny for Jason and Blackburn to return from finding out the itinerary for tomorrow while Alpha grabbed dinner before taking the night shift. “Trent said to call him whenever we get a chance.”

Sonny pulled out his phone, ready to dial Trent, but stopped and eyed Ray when Bravo Two put a hand over his.

“Hold on. This is a call we need to make in private.” Ray didn’t want to have to explain a raging Texan to the politicos here who already made it clear they were an unwelcome addition to the embassy via undisguised glares and comments. He didn’t often question their missions, but Ray didn’t understand why a top-tier team was sent here when no unrest was brewing in a stable country. Nor did he see why it took all of Alpha, minus Nick who was still recovering, three of Bravo, and Blackburn to provide security for Senator Usher.

Reluctantly, Sonny shoved the phone back into his back pocket. “This mission is for the birds.”

“You’re preaching to the choir, brother.” Ray tilted his head down the hall. “Jason’s coming.”

“He looks upset,” Sonny remarked as he removed his toothpick he had nearly destroyed while waiting.

Jason halted next to his men and released a low growl. “Let’s go to our quarters in the basement.”

“What’s got you all steamed … besides the obvious?” Ray inquired.

“Not here.” Jason pivoted and strode to the stairs in the back of the embassy, which led to the accommodations assigned to them. A room barely big enough to hang nine hammocks, but then again, not all of them would be sleeping at the same time since this was a round-the-clock detail. The ambassador apologized for the underwhelming lodgings, but with the senator and his entourage visiting, it was the only one available.

As the three SEALs entered the stairwell, they didn’t notice the man who followed them with his eyes. Wayne smirked and picked up a folder before rising from his chair. He forced himself to turn to the woman next to him, and in a tone, which communicated his utter disdain for this undesirable creature, he said, “Make sure you vet each of the attendees for Saturday’s event, or you’ll be fired like the last social secretary.” He ambled out to find Usher.

Glaring at the back of her uppity co-worker, Brenda was half-tempted to stick her tongue out at Wayne _I’m-better-than-you-all_ Wickingham, but it would be unprofessional and unbecoming. The senator’s top aide acted like he was in charge instead of Usher and one day she hoped Wayne was put in his place. Until then, she needed a job, so she set about reviewing the attendees for the party being hosted by the embassy in Senator Usher’s honor.

* * *

_ **Uruguay – United States Embassy – Basement Room** _

“What gives?” Ray asked once they entered the room and closed the door.

“We are now going to be here for at least a week. Ambassador Yancy invited Usher to remain for an economic summit next Thursday.”

“What if Mandy is ready with an IIB target package while we’re here playing babysitter?” Sonny’s fists clenched. He wanted to destroy the organization who was at the root of what happened to Clay.

“Don’t know. Haven’t had a chance to talk to Blackburn. He’s unhappy with this assignment too.” Jason raked both hands through his hair. “One other thing. We are all to be clean-shaven for the event on Saturday, so we, and I quote, ‘blend in and don’t look like heathens.’”

Sonny chuckled. “All my friends are heathens. I prefer their company to these pretentious pencil pushers who yammer on about nothing and line their pockets with all the pork in the bills they pass.”

Ray smiled. “Tell us how you really feel.”

“Thought you were apolitical?” Jason said as he sat in his hammock.

“That’s for my Commander-In-Chief. The rest of these buffoons … well, I’d like to—” His phone ringing interrupted him, and Sonny reached for it wondering if it was Clay calling and needing to talk to him. The ID read Trent, and he answered, putting it on speaker. “What’s wrong with the kid?”

Trent unleashed his pent-up anger as he related what the psychologist said to Clay. Brock seconded Trent’s indignation as he explained the severity of the panic attack and how Clay isolated himself in his room and refused to eat or talk to them. Trent took over again and in very colorful language questioned how the Navy could farm out Clay’s eval to a civilian quack and why Clay would agree to meet with her tomorrow.

Once the two men state-side finished unloading and venting to the three in Uruguay, Jason stepped up as their leader and said, “I’ll talk to Blackburn about this, but as for Clay, I believe he agreed because the kid wants nothing more than to be a SEAL. She gave him an ultimatum and left him no choice in the matter.”

Ray sighed and spoke his thoughts, which might make him unpopular but needed to be expressed. “Currently, Clay is unfit for duty. He needs help. He’s been through Hell since he joined us. Maybe this last abduction is the straw that broke the camel’s back. I want him back as much as the rest of you, but he’s unbalanced and can’t operate like he is now. He’d be a liability to the team and himself.

“God forbid Spenser went on a mission and had an episode of the shakes which ended in his death or one of ours. If any of us died because of that, the kid would be irrevocably broken. Right now, he is only bent, and Clay needs to hammer out whatever is causing his attacks.”

Sonny didn’t want to listen to reason … he wanted to be there for the kid … but Two was the glue, and he did make sense. Tamping down on his frustration at not being there for Clay, Sonny said, “Trent, Brock, do what you can for him and if this unqualified shrink screws up the kid more, my fist will be having a nice long conversation with the cake-eater responsible for this shit.”

The guys engaged in several minutes of back and forth discussion, none happy with Clay’s situation, but determined to do what they could to help. Before hanging up, Jason shared they wouldn’t be home for at least a week, and to contact him tomorrow night to let him know how the next session went.

None of them possessed an appetite after the call, and with no place they could go except the grounds of the embassy, Sonny changed into sweats and decided to take a run around the perimeter to release his frustration. With one glance, Jason communicated to Ray to go with Sonny to keep him out of trouble, and Jason exited the room to find Blackburn. 

* * *

_ **Dr. Upchurch’s Office** _

Though Trent still didn’t understand the Navy’s reasoning for assigning this quack, and in his mind, any psychologist who said what Upchurch said yesterday fell into that category, he pushed Clay into the office. Upon returning to his house yesterday, the kid slept through lunch, declined dinner, and refused to speak to anyone as he stayed in his room the entire afternoon and night.

Clay remained uncommunicative this morning too, though he did shower and eat breakfast. Trent wanted to say many things, demand a different psychologist, rant about the cake-eaters forcing Clay to be evaluated so soon, but he did none of that. Well, he did, but Brock, Jason, Ray, and Sonny were the recipients of his unvarnished thoughts last night.

After he set the brake and unlatched Cerb’s leash from his belt, Trent set the water bottle in the kid’s lap. “I’ll be in the waiting room if you need me.”

Clay only nodded as he studied Dr. Upchurch. He didn’t hear Trent leave, too wrapped up in his head. He sequestered himself yesterday because he needed time to think. Clay couldn’t explain to the guys why he agreed to more sessions, partly because he didn’t know why himself and also, he couldn’t tell them she wasn’t a civilian and the reports would go directly to Admiral Droit.

Veronica noted the icy glare from Trent before he left, and Clay’s direct gaze on her. She regretted the way she handled things in their first session. Her professor would call it a rookie mistake by focusing on the issue and not the person, an error she shouldn’t be making at this point in her career.

She vowed not to blunder again, or the Navy would lose a highly qualified SEAL. At first, the panic attack made her question if Clay would make it back, made her wonder if she should place him in a psych ward and medicate him. But then she spent the night reviewing his jacket, previous psych evals, and his history of injuries. She even went so far as to examine Lieutenant Commander Blackburn’s reports on team dynamics which were courtesy of General Shaw’s misguided belief Bravo Team needed to be broken up.

Sawyer had called Spenser an operator’s operator and that shone through in everything she read, but the sexual assault might not be the sole reason for his panic attacks. All in all, the young man had a rather unbelievable history since joining Bravo. Though after her careful review she possessed the confidence that if given the proper support, the right environment, and the time necessary to heal and cope with the cumulative trauma, Clay would overcome this obstacle.

Determined to help him, Veronica opened the session by candidly acknowledging his panic attack without judgment. “You had a reaction at the end of our session.”

Clay shrugged. “Yeah.” When Upchurch remained quiet for what felt like an eternity, but in reality, was maybe ten seconds, he blurted out, “I’ve been thinking.” He paused, waited for her response which didn’t come, sighed, and said, “You said yesterday anything I say is confidential and your primary goal is to help me move forward. Does that mean this isn’t my normal psych assessment?”

“Yes.”

Clay took a deep breath, one hand clenching into a fist and the other buried in Cerb’s fur as he internalized her answer. Gradually exhaling and unclenching his fist, Clay dropped his gaze to the floor. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve never experienced a total lack of control. Never shook or threw up for no reason. I don’t know why it is happening now. I’ve been through much worse.”

He lifted his eyes and met Upchurch’s gaze. “Got the scars to prove it.” Clay noted the psychologist’s slight smile and nod, but again she remained quiet, so he forged onward, “I’ve been taken hostage before.”

His mind brought forth recollections of the times he had been abducted. “In Mexico, a drug cartel put a hit out on me. Was drunk when it happened. Sonny took me out drinking ‘cause my girlfriend dumped me. If I hadn’t been shitfaced, they wouldn’t have taken us. Sonny blamed himself, but it wasn’t his fault. It was mine for not staying aware during a mission.

“They impaled me with a whaling hook,” his hand moved to just under his ribs, “here. Hurt like hell, though I guess the excessive alcohol dulled the pain a little. They hoisted me up and used me as a pinata before lowering me and putting a rope around my neck. The bastards heaved me off the roof, and if not for Ray’s sniper skills, I’d be dead.”

Noting what seemed to be compassion in Upchurch’s expression and her undivided attention, Clay continued, “I didn’t experience any of this shit after that …” he trailed off as something came to mind. “But, well, maybe that’s because at first, I didn’t remember anything. My head hit hard when I fell two stories, and I ended up with short-term amnesia, so perhaps it was different than this time.”

After unscrewing the water bottle, Clay took a sip, somewhat surprised the shrink wasn’t asking him probing questions about his feelings and emotions. Something about her demeanor put him at ease … much like when he was in Sonny’s presence … though different.

“Then, there was Ecuador. I shouldn’t have been there. My ears were still healing after a mission gone wrong in Dongola. Bravo rescued me that time too … both Dongola and in Ecuador. I would go again in a heartbeat and endure what Carlson did to me ‘cause I was able to save my brothers.”

He took another sip of water and quipped, “My language skills come in handy on occasion.” He received another smile and nod, indicating she heard but wouldn’t interrupt his flow. At this point, Clay’s whip-smart brain grasped this would be mostly a monolog, and he decided to avail himself of an attentive ear with the proper clearance level to spill things he kept buried inside.

“Seems I’ve pissed off more than one person. Doza in Mexico. Also, a CIA agent named Carlson hated me because of an ill-planned op where Jason put my well-being ahead of snagging the HVT. Though Jason had an option that time, a Canadian team showed up, and well, we got the HVT anyway. I guess me being ill saved them that time too, ‘cause we would’ve run smack dab into a larger force unexpectedly.

“The mission in Argentina went sideways in a hurry … first time I was drugged and abducted. Got an arrow in my ass on that one. Humiliating to be found naked, drugged out of my mind, and injured. Guess that one is a little more like this time.

“Tibet was a little different. The people who found me at first wanted to help … but came across others who wanted to sell me into sexual slavery. Was drugged out of my gourd then too. A well-meaning woman without medical knowledge kept me high on opium.

“Which I’m in two minds about. On the one hand, don’t think I could’ve handled the fire-cupping torture of the quack subjected me to without it. But on the other hand, being addicted put my career in jeopardy and makes me nervous about taking any painkillers.

“Becoming addicted again was one of my fears after the bomb in Manila tore my legs apart. I refused meds as often as I could … rather endure pain than lose my job.”

Clay sighed and shifted his gaze to the window. “I’ve been through worse shit than what Tabasi did to me. In SERE, I mouthed off to the instructors, kept being cocky, and they waterboarded me more than normal, I’m sure. So, I knew how to handle being waterboarded.

“And after being beaten with a hockey stick while hanging from a whaling hook, having a red-hot poker shoved in my back, being speared with a harpoon and left in the middle of the Indian Ocean, and being dragged by a truck, Dinc’s fists and Tabasi’s taunts seemed like child’s play. I only had to survive until my brothers came for me … they always do.”

A mental image of him hanging by his wrists caused Clay’s hand to tremble. Returning his gaze to Upchurch, he asked, “Why? Why is it so different this time? This wasn’t the worst I’ve experienced, so why now? I don’t understand.”

“You would really like to understand,” Veronica reflected Clay’s words to him, letting him know she listened and comprehended, but also knowing Clay was the only person who could truly answer his question.

“Yeah. How do I get there?”

“That’s an honest question.”

Clay stared as the silence elongated, and he came to a realization. “You don’t have a magic answer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Upchurch might seem callous, but I'm basing her approach in reality after discussing this story with a friend who is a real psychologist and asking how he would approach this situation. Had to backtrack a bit from the previous chapter, because he cringed when I told him about Upchurch's ultimatum.


	7. One Stormy Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for taking three months to post the next chapter. Hope it is worth the wait.

_ **Three Weeks Later – Trent’s Home – Guest Room** _

Waking from a nightmare, Clay lay stock still as he breathed through the terror which overcame him. A flash of lightning illuminated the room indicated the forecasted thunderstorm must be rolling through. He focused on the sound of the rain hitting the windowpane, hoping to stop a full-blown panic attack.

Though his body was well on the way to mending, his arms no longer in slings and allowed to walk using a boot cast, Clay still suffered from bouts of sheer terror with no apparent source. They came out of the blue and made him a wreck.

Cerb became his constant companion when the pup was not training with Brock, which was both a positive and negative. Yes, Cerb helped reduce the shakes, but the longer the disturbing episodes persisted, the more Clay worried he would be declared unfit and lose his place on Bravo.

He still woke in a cold sweat multiple times per night, and Clay figured he owed Trent mega dollars for his water bill because he always ended up in the shower afterward. Now that he could move on his own, he was driven to take showers multiple times per day. He couldn’t stand being even the tiniest bit dirty. Clay scrubbed and scrubbed each time he took one … but never felt clean … which bugged the hell out of him.

Clay appreciated that Trent didn’t say anything to him about the excessive showering, and allowed him to remain in his spare room instead of moving back to his place. Though he still hated to be touched, Clay didn’t want to be alone. And with Sonny still on whatever mission they went on, living at Trent’s place kept Clay from freaking out more.

The mission as far as he knew was only supposed to be a short one, but had extended for weeks and in the last two, none of them had heard a thing from Jason, Ray, or Sonny, which left Clay’s imagination on overdrive, and might be a source for the ongoing panic episodes.

Though not the smartest move to shower during a storm, Clay was soaked through, feeling dirty, and driven by an urge to get clean. He rose from the damp sheets and hobbled to the hall bathroom without his cast.

_ **Trent’s Home – Bathroom** _

As he undressed for the third shower today, Clay caught his reflection in the mirror. On the outside, he appeared hale and hearty again, except for the light shadows under his eyes from interrupted sleep, but inside he was a friggin mess. His sessions with Dr. Upchurch created more questions in his mind than answers, and he began to lose hope of ever figuring out what brought on the tremors.

Clay turned on the tap, hoping the sound of the water wouldn’t wake Trent or Brock. A slight scratch at the base of the bathroom door told him Cerb woke and came to check on him. He opened it a little and squatted as Cerb’s nose poked inside. “Hey, I’m okay. Go back to Brock.”

Cerb sniffed and nudged his head inside more.

“Out. Just going to shower.” Clay frowned when Cerb ignored him and forced his shoulders through the opening.

Knowing the scent of the darkness now, Cerb refused to be sent packing. Though faint it was there, lurking and waiting to pounce. The nasty odor took his boy by surprise too many times and Cerb wished it was something solid he could bite and drag away from Clay. But it was not so he would do the next best thing … stay close so when it descended, his packmate had him to cling to.

Clay relented in trying to make Cerb leave. The pup could be as stubborn as Jason and Sonny combined. As the steam billowed over the shower curtain, Clay stood and said, “Suit yourself, but don’t be mad at me when Dawn says you stink like wet dog.” He left the door ajar so Cerb could leave when he wanted.

He stepped into the shower and began what became his routine in the last few weeks, pouring shampoo into his hand he started with washing his hair. Clay rinsed after several minutes of rubbing his scalp with his fingertips. The motion was a little soothing to him. Reaching out for the bodywash, his hand began to shake and he knocked it into the tub. “No. No. Not now.” He clenched his shaking hand trying to make it stop.

As Clay bent to retrieve the bottle, Cerb’s snout appeared, nudging the curtain aside. The dog’s sudden appearance startled Clay and he slipped on the soap which seeped out of the open bottle. Down he went, striking his head on the bathtub’s edge. It stung, and he cussed as he pressed a hand to his forehead and he peered at Cerb. “Thanks a lot.”

Cerb bowed his head at the sarcastic words, and let out a mournful whimper as if saying ‘sorry.’

Simultaneously a thunderous boom rent the air and the lights went out, pitching the room in blackness. Another boom sounded and Cerb barked. By the third thunderclap, Clay was scrambling out of the tub, realizing it was stupid to be in the water and imagining what Sonny and Jason would say if he got himself electrocuted.

As he reached to shut off the tap, the house shuddered with the force of a tremendous crack. His hand hit the handle knocking it to cold as he slipped again and landed in a heap.

The shock of ice-cold water hitting his face made Clay gasp, and suck in a bit of the water. And then he was there again … his mind taking him to the house in Turkmenistan. Tied down and being waterboarded as Tabasi told him he would pay for killing his sons.

Clay’s entire body began to tremble as new images surfaced. Things he knew to be true but suppressed. Bile rose in his throat and he gagged as one of the guards … not Dinc … followed through on Tabasi’s threats. He screamed, and screamed, and screamed as his body was violated … as he was brutally raped.

Cerb hopped in the tub, not caring about getting soaked, and nuzzled close … his boy needed him.

_ **Trent’s Home – Hallway** _

Trent, Brock, and Sonny converged at the same time in the hall outside the bathroom. Clay’s shrieking drawing all out of a sound sleep.

Sonny’s eyes were huge with concern in the illumination of Trent’s flashlight. “This normal?”

“No,” Trent pushed open the door.

_ **Trent’s Home – Bathroom** _

The three men crowded inside to find both Clay and Cerb in the tub with the water running, and their youngest teammate screaming his head off. Closest to the faucet Trent shut it off as Brock called to Cerb, who ignored him, refusing to leave Clay’s side.

Sonny swallowed the lump in his throat as he moved forward. “Let me.”

Trent and Brock nodded. The bond between Sonny and Clay was deep and strong, and Sonny might be able to break through whatever Clay was experiencing. Both were thankful the team returned tonight and Sonny came straight over after they landed. Clay had already been asleep, so Sonny decided to sleep on the couch and not disturb him.

“Hey, Goldilocks, I’m here. You’re safe.” Sonny had to speak louder than he wanted, close to a shout, to be heard over Clay’s screaming. He stepped into the tub, crouching in the tight space and the light from Brock’s cell phone made Cerb’s eyes shine back at him. “Cerb, need you to move so I can get him out.”

As if Cerb understood English, the pup shifted and leapt out of the tub, but he remained close … watching.

“Give me a towel,” Sonny requested. When Brock tossed him one, Sonny lay it over Clay, as he moved in closer and wrapped his arms around his trembling little brother. Sonny’s heart was breaking, but he kept his voice smooth and calm. “I’m here. You’re safe with me. Shhh. You’re alright. Safe. Sonny’s going to protect you.”

Clay’s screams turned to racking sobs. He didn’t resist when he was lifted by strong arms, moved, laid on something soft, and wrapped up. The arms of his brother encircled him again and Clay rested his head on Sonny’s chest as sobs gave way to whimpers.

Trent knelt after Sonny settled a comforter wrapped Clay in his embrace and continued to murmur reassurances that he was safe. He noted the bump on Clay’s forehead and his rapid pulse. The screaming worried him, but he didn’t believe a physical injury to be the cause.

Brock rubbed Cerb down with one of the towels as he whispered, “Should I go call Jason?”

“Not yet.” Sonny ran a hand towel over Clay’s dripping locks.

The electricity coming back on bathed the room in bright light, causing Clay to squeeze his eyes shut. “Off. Please. Off.”

Brock switched the lights off.

“Sonny, that really you?”

“Yeah, got back after you went to bed.” Sonny dropped the damp towel and returned his arm around Clay who still shivered uncontrollably. “I’m here.”

“I’m cold.”

“I know. Wanna tell me why you were taking an ice shower in a thunderstorm?”

“Didn’t mean to.”

“Okay. Well, you want to stay here a bit longer or are you ready to go to your room and get dressed in something warm and dry?” Sonny decided to address practical matters first. The kid was freezing and the comforter Trent produced almost out of thin air was now damp so wouldn’t provide warmth much longer.

“Leg shaking too much.”

“No worries. I’ll be your legs for now. Hang on.” With assistance from Trent and Brock, Sonny managed to stand while holding Clay in his arms. Cerb led the way out of the bathroom with the guys following.

_ **Trent’s Home – Guest Room** _

Since he trembled too much to manage, Clay allowed Brock and Sonny to help him dress in a pair of sweats and thick, wooly socks while Trent remade his bed with clean dry sheets and then insisted on checking his pupillary responses since he whacked his head twice. Sonny sat beside him once he was settled under three blankets. Brock took a seat on the floor and Trent on the rolling chair.

Clay lowered his eyes as Dawn appeared with four mugs of hot chocolate, and was glad she didn’t speak or stay. He stared at his cocoa for several minutes as the only sound in the room was the pounding rain pelting the window and roof. Clay took a sip and let the warm liquid linger in his mouth before swallowing.

He noted Cerb’s head resting on the edge of the bed and reached out to scratch behind his ears. His tremors began to ebb with the silent support and the warmth around him. Part of him wanted to tell them sorry for waking them, but by now he understood his brothers would always be there for him, no matter what.

Drawing in a shaky breath, Clay lifted his eyes and turned to Sonny. “I know now.”

“Know what?”

“Why I’m a fucking mess.”

“Okay. Anything we can do to help?”

“No. I got to figure this out on my own.”

Trent tensed. They all suspected Clay might’ve experienced more than his mind allowed him to recall, and if the screaming was any indication, those memories resurfaced tonight.

“Whatever it is … you don’t have to go it alone.” Sonny put his arm over Clay’s shoulders and drew him closer, sensing his brother needed the connection now more than ever.

“I don’t … I can’t …” Clay choked up.

“Nothing you say will change the fact you’re our brother. Nothing.” Brock steeled himself for what he believed happened to Clay.

“Some things are too …” Clay’s throat tightened preventing him from speaking as he fought a prickle of tears.

“Remember the first night in the hospital when you tumbled out of bed?” Sonny said in a soft tone.

“Sort of.”

“I think you left off one word.” 

“Huh?” Clay didn't follow what Sonny meant.

Sonny pulled Clay closer still, unsure if this was the right way to go about this or not. He was winging it, but he wanted to help Clay so pressed onward. “It’s okay. If what I think happened actually occurred, it doesn’t change how we view you one damned bit. It is no different in our eyes as when you got hooked, fire-cupped, electrocuted, or any of the shit you’ve been through which was out of your control. Someone hurt you … and that pisses us off. But I think it might be helpful for you to give voice to what happened. Perhaps it is the first step in healing.”

Tears dripped from Clay’s eyes. His heart pounded so hard he thought it might escape his chest. Hot bile rose in his throat and he chugged some hot chocolate to get rid of the acid burn. Clay began to review all his conversations with Dr. Upchurch, all the self-introspection, and he came to realize he needed to acknowledge the sexual assault as frankly as he did every other assault on his person.

Putting his trust in Sonny’s words, Clay quietly said, “I was raped. I don’t know by who … one of the guards. He came when the others were out of the room, and he raped me.”

Sonny sat his mug down and wrapped his other arm around Clay. “The son-of-a-bitch who hurt you is likely dead. No one except Tabasi survived. But I’ll kill him too if you want.”

“No. Don’t want you in prison.” Fatigue washed through Clay leaving him sagging against Sonny again.

Trent fought the rage brewing inside and wondered how Sonny remained so calm. He wanted to go schwack Tabasi this instant because if the man had not kidnapped Clay in the first place, his brother would not have been subjected to not only the rape but the other injuries too. Clamping down on his fury, Trent said, “Anything you need, you tell us. You can stay here as long as you want.”

“You’ve told us, do you plan on telling Jason and Ray?” Brock hoped the answer would be yes because something this big shouldn’t be withheld from One and Two.

“Tomorrow. I’m tired.”

“Okay. Dawn’s making waffles tomorrow. I’ll contact Ray and Jason after breakfast.” Trent stood and retrieved Clay cup and Sonny’s too. 

Brock rose and said, “Sonny, I’ll grab your bedding for you.”

Sonny gave Brock a slight nod. When they were alone, Sonny asked, “Want to lie down now?”

“No.”

“Want me to stay right where I am?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, brother. Whatever you need. I’m here. Blackburn’s guaranteed us three weeks downtime.”

“Why were you gone so long?” Clay yawned after asking and shifted so his head lay across Sonny’s lap.

“Tell you all about it tomorrow. Sleep now.”

Brock slipped in the room again and positioned a pillow for Sonny, but if his teammate stayed that way for the rest of the night, he would have a crick in his neck … a price he or any of the others would be willing to pay to help Clay.

As the rain pitter-pattered outside and Clay slumbered in his lap, Sonny allowed tears to fall as his heart cracked for Clay. If he could go back and kill every fucking person in that compound again, he would. And he wanted to snap Tabasi’s neck with his bare hands. No one hurt his little brother and got away with it.

Eventually, thoughts of revenge gave way to ones of awe. The trust Clay showed in them tonight astounded him. If the roles had been reversed, Sonny was not sure if he could ever admit out loud to anyone he had been raped. Though Sonny didn’t delude himself, one stormy night of realization and telling them what happened wouldn't fix everything. Clay would need time to recover, more time than they previously expected. Perhaps Dr. Upchurch was a blessing in disguise because when it came to something like this, Clay needed an expert to help him weather the emotional storm which was unleashed tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry to leave this story hanging for so long. I had to focus on finishing my latest novel, WHITEOUT Above and Beyond, which I'm happy to say is published now. Then I got started on the next one BREAKPOINTS, and got hooked on starting a new series and delved deeply into writing ZULU SIX which is the first book. ZULU SIX is about 3/4 finished and I hit a little writer's block, so my muse decided it was time to pick this story up for a bit. 
> 
> I promise not to take 3 months for the next chapter.


	8. Path to Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, but as promised I didn't make you wait 3 months 😲

_ **Ten Weeks Later – Bravo Equipment Cages** _

Clay stood at the table in the center of the room, cleaning his weapon along with Sonny and Ray. The three weeks Sonny said Bravo was promised as downtime stretched into ten weeks so far. Blackburn wouldn’t or couldn’t explain why Bravo was not tagged for spin-ups, but Clay suspected it might be one of two things or perhaps a combination of both.

Though he had no proof she was responsible, Clay believed Dr. Upchurch might’ve played a role in the team’s extended time in stand-down mode. Veronica told him at the beginning of his therapy that she reported directly to Admiral Droit about his progress. He suspected her updates to the admiral possibly included notations about needing his teammates nearby as part of his recovery.

The second and more likely reason was what happened during the mission in Uruguay … the one that ended up extending beyond a few days. When he woke the morning after his meltdown in the shower, Clay was surprised when Sonny told him Blackburn ordered the entire team to the base for a meeting to discuss an important matter.

At first, he worried Trent or Brock told Jason he’d been raped while held by Tabasi, and Jason, in turn, told Blackburn, but that wasn’t the topic. In an unprecedented move, the lieutenant commander included him, Brock, and Trent in the debrief of the Uruguay op.

He learned Senator Usher extended his stay to meet with several business leaders after the economic summit. During a reception at the final affair, gunmen opened fire on the crowd. What initially appeared to be an attack on the Utah senator, turned out to be much more insidious … someone put a hit out on Bravo. Mandy believed IIB to be behind it, though she had not been able to connect the dots.

At the event, both Ray and Jason took several hits to their vests, and Sonny received a grazed bicep. While Jason and Ray lay incapacitated on the ground, struggling to draw breaths after being hit, Sonny and Full Metal emptied their mags protecting them, Usher, Ambassador Yancy, and several others from five shooters.

As Sonny started to swap mags, he spotted Wayne Wickingham, the senator’s top aide, point a pistol at Jason’s head. Sonny’s spectacular tackle prevented Jason’s death, but Wickingham’s head smacked the concrete so hard it fractured his skull. The man was still in a coma and not expected to regain consciousness, which made it difficult to trace who wanted Bravo Team dead.

They only knew Bravo was the intended target because one of the hitmen lived long enough to reveal that piece, but died before divulging who hired them. The dead men were members of a local, small-scale drug-trafficking gang with no discernable ties to IIB, but with Clay’s abduction in Switzerland, Mandy believed the incidents were connected, and she set out to find proof.

Whatever the reason, he was grateful to have his brothers around in the last two months. He continued therapy sessions with the psychologist weekly after becoming aware of what happened to him while being held at Tabasi’s compound. Some days he thought he would go crazy … that he was crazy … when things would spiral out of control for no apparent reason.

Perhaps the hardest thing he’d done was reveal to Jason that he’d been raped. Clay never wanted to cause Jason harm … but the disclosure hit Jace like a semi, virtually picking him up, throwing him across the room, and dumping him in a boneless heap. Or at least the emotions he witnessed in Jason’s expression felt like that is what occurred. Clay couldn’t and wouldn’t ever blame Jason for what happened to him … but Jason unjustly blamed himself.

Interestingly, Jason and the other guys agreed to attend a few therapy sessions with him. Clay’s motive was twofold. First, make sure they didn’t hold themselves responsible for the actions of a sicko … none of this was their fault. Second, Dr. Upchurch suggested if his brothers understood his path to recovery would be a series of peaks and valleys, they’d be able to help him scale the mountains after taking a tumble.

By his choice, Blackburn was made aware of the assault, but Clay didn’t want anyone else to know … not Lisa, not Mandy, not Naima, not any of their girlfriends, and damn-well not either Jason’s or Ray’s kids. Though he accepted it was out of his control, he didn’t want to deal with the stigma of rape or be seen as a lesser man in any of their eyes. Try as he might, a tiny part of him still struggled with the idea that he should’ve been able to stop it or escape before it happened.

For the most part, he was on an even-keel emotionally now. The unexpected shakes had lessened in the first few weeks. He hadn’t had an episode of them for the past eighteen days, which Dr. Upchurch viewed as progress.

He regained his weight and then some … mostly muscle mass, because he threw himself into working out when rage overtook him. The bouts of unbridled anger slowly diminished over time, but they still caught him unawares occasionally. Veronica reassured him his aversion to touch, and his outbursts were a normal part of healing, and each person copes with trauma differently.

She outlined and described in general terms the phases he might go through but stressed they were only guidelines, and his path to recovery may move backwards, forwards, or between phases as he worked through his trauma. As a SEAL whose life and the lives of his teammates depended on him being rock-solid, this didn’t give him any warm fuzzies and made him question whether he would ever be fit for duty again. So when at his lowest points, he turned to his brothers … drawing on their strength when his was depleted, and clinging to their optimism when filled with negative thoughts.

Their unconditional support, unshakable grip, and unwavering belief he would return to Bravo whole and healthy made Adam’s words come to life … team was the only family he needed. With them at his side, with their hands on his back, both literally and figuratively, he overcame what initially appeared to be insurmountable obstacles.

The door opening pulled Clay from his musings, and he peered at Jason as his team leader strode toward the table. He had to tamp down on the sense of foreboding based on Jason’s expression.

“Blackburn wants us all in the briefing room in ten minutes.” His gaze remained on Clay. The kid had been back on base and training with them for the past four weeks, though he had not received clearance to operate with them should they be spun-up.

Physically, Bravo Six was on par, and perhaps in better shape than ever before, but he still needed time to get his head on straight. Hell, they all needed time to wrap their heads around and come to terms with what the kid endured.

There were moments in the day when he would catch a glimpse of Clay’s vulnerability, and every fiber in his body wanted to slaughter whoever raped his kid. If only they had a clue who did it, and if the asshole died in the raid on Tabasi’s compound. Though they believed everyone except Tabasi had been killed, someone had either survived or been nearby to blow up the complex and douse all the bodies with an accelerant, so only crispy critters and ash remained, thus removing their ability to identify the dead. 

As Ray and Sonny began to reassemble their clean weapons, Jason noted Clay’s shoulders sag ever so slightly as he reached for Brock’s weapon, preparing to clean it for their dog handler. Clay must’ve believed his use of ‘all’ in his statement didn’t include him. “You too, Spenser.”

“Me? Why?” Clay stared at Jason.

“Guess we’ll find out in ten. Sonny, Clay, wrap things up here. Ray come with me.” Jason pivoted and strode out of the room with Ray on his heels.

* * *

_**Hallway **_

Jason halted near the team room and turned to face Ray. His hand went to the back of his neck, and he squeezed as tension in his body increased.

“What’s got you worried, brother?”

“The kid.”

“Go on.”

“We’re probably getting spun-up. He hasn’t been alone since we got him back. Not sure what us leaving is gonna do to him … if it will set him back.”

Ray nodded. “The fact we’ve been down for ten weeks, with or without a target on our backs, is unprecedented. The cake-eaters are probably breathing fire down on Blackburn. Clay appears to be in a stable place … no panic attacks in almost three weeks.”

Blowing out a long breath, formed from frustration and unrelenting worry, Jason said, “When you suggested we draft him … I never—”

A chuckle emitted before Ray interrupted Jason, “You never expected to view him as a son.”

Jason only nodded. A fact Clay Spenser had wormed his way into his heart in a manner no other teammate ever had was not lost on him. It created many dilemmas for him. There were rules about being in command of your family … and damned good reasons for them. But on the other hand, teams often created stronger bonds with their brothers than with their biological families.

They shared a common bond forged under fire when their very lives depended on one another … they saw and experienced things together that wives and children would never see or understand … which was one of the reasons they did what they did … they protected their country and those they loved from the horrors of war.

Ray watched the kaleidoscope of emotions swirl in Jason’s eyes. Most people wouldn’t notice, but he knew his brother better than anyone on this earth. “What else is going on in your head, Jace?”

“If there is a target on Bravo, and we leave … Clay will be here alone without protection. I don’t think I can do that, and I’m not sure what I’m going to do, because he is still classified as inactive. I can’t bark and have him activated to go with us … and I’m not certain that would be in his best interests even if I could.”

It was Ray’s turn to nod. He understood the untenable position Jason was in. “Perhaps we should find out why Blackburn called the meeting before you spend more time swirling. Once we know, we’ll work the problem as a team, as we’ve done for the past ten weeks. We’ll figure out a solution that keeps Clay safe and gives you peace of mind so you can focus.”

Jason dropped his hand and grinned. “There’s a reason you are my number two.”

A snort came from Ray as he smiled. “I’m good at sorting out your shit.” He spotted Sonny and Clay striding towards them. “Let’s go.” He pulled out his cell phone and deposited it in the cubby then opened the door.

* * *

_ **Bravo Team Room** _

As he entered, Ray’s mind whirled on Jason’s concerns, even though he told Jace they would deal with it after the briefing. He shared the same worries. Clay made significant strides in his recovery, but the fact Sonny still slept on Clay’s couch every night didn’t bode well for Spenser spending time alone.

He took his usual seat, noting Brock, Trent, and Full Metal were already around the table. When Clay and Sonny entered, Cerb raced up to the kid, and Ray grinned as the dog weaved around Clay’s legs in greeting. Cerb had been instrumental in Clay’s recovery … when the pup retired from active service, he could have a second career as a therapy dog.

As the guys settled in, the door opened again, and Blackburn, Davis, and Ellis strode in. Mandy’s expressions told him she must’ve figured something out … perhaps she pieced together who wanted them dead. He hoped so. He was ready to bring them in or send them to their maker if they resisted … and a part of him wanted the assholes to resist.

“Gentlemen, you are being spun-up. Ms. Ellis, the floor is yours.” Blackburn moved to the side of the room and leaned against the edge of one of the desks. He flicked a gaze to Spenser, hoping to gauge his reaction to the news, but all he noted was a flat expression.

Clay’s insides churned. Bravo would be leaving, and he would be on his own for the first time in over three months. He kept all emotion from his face, but his right fist clenched as he gave himself a silent pep talk. _You can do this. You’re a SEAL for god’s sake … not a child. They need to do their job, not babysit you._

As Mandy plugged in a laptop, Clay’s internal dialog changed. _Why am I in the mission briefing? Am I going? Why? I’m not cleared yet._ His gaze moved to Blackburn, searching for answers but finding none.

Whatever Mandy was saying became nothing more than buzzing in his ears as he shifted his gaze to the screen at the front, and his eyes focused on the man displayed. Without warning, Clay’s stomach flipped, and he spewed his lunch on the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's only one chapter left. I hope to finish and post it this weekend, so you won't have to wait too long for the resolution of this little cliffy.


	9. Connecting the Dots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Includes my attempt to explain why Full Metal is now on Bravo ... since the show never explained why Alpha One is now running with Bravo.
> 
> Oh, and this story requires an additional chapter to wrap things up properly ... so this isn't the last one.

_ **Bravo Team Room** _

Reactions were swift and varied as Clay hurled. Jason and Ray, directly across from him and in the path of the projectile vomit, rapidly pushed their chairs back. Sonny and Trent, who flanked Clay on either side, scooted away too, but Trent turned to reach for a trashcan, and Sonny moved back closer to Clay after his initial reaction. Brock shot out of his seat and rushed to the kitchenette to grab paper towels.

Mandy grimaced and put a hand to her stomach. Lisa went to the fridge to grab a water bottle for Clay to rinse his mouth. Full Metal, who was not in jeopardy of being covered in puke, remained in place and crossed his arms, wondering if the kid got a case of food poisoning from the chicken sandwich he ate for lunch.

Eric, who had been watching Clay up to the point he began retching, shifted his gaze to the photo on the screen … he would bet all he owned Clay reacted to the image. The question was … why? A gut-wrenching notion came to him as he moved close to Jason and whispered, “I’m going to clear the room of everyone except Bravo. Give Clay a moment to compose himself, but ask him if he knows Ulker Volkan. Call me when you’re ready to resume.”

Jason’s eyes shot to the image and then back to Clay. “You think?”

“Maybe. Fits his reaction.” Eric turned and strode to Mandy. “Let’s give the team time to get things cleaned up before we continue.”

Aware no one would be willing to sit through briefing until Clay was sorted out, Mandy nodded and headed to the door.

* * *

_**Hallway **_

Lisa, Full Metal, and Eric joined Mandy in the hall a few moments later, and Lisa asked, “Should I contact Dr. Irving?”

“No, Trent will send for him if necessary.” Eric turned to Full Metal. “Since we have a few minutes, we should head to my office to finalize your transfer paperwork. Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yeah. It’s time. Derek’s worked his ass off, and he’s more than ready for the responsibility of leading Alpha Team, but I’m not quite ready to leave DEVGRU.” Full Metal glanced back at the door as Mandy and Lisa started down the hall towards the intel office. “What’s up? Why did you clear the room of everyone but Bravo?”

Eric sighed. “You’ll need to ask Jason.”

“Something to do with the kid?” When Eric didn’t respond, Full Metal got his answer. He’d seen how Bravo circled wagons around Clay. Jason operated much like he did, though Jace managed to create something unique with his team, which is one reason he looked forward to joining Bravo for the remainder of his career.

He could stay with Alpha and lead them a few more years, but he wasn’t lying when he told Blackburn that Derek earned the right to lead the team. His choices of what to do were limited after handing over the reins to Derek. He could become an instructor at BUDS or for Green Team, but he wasn’t ready to leave the field.

Jason offered him a chance to transfer to Bravo, and he joked he’d only do it if they continued to call him Alpha One because he refused to become Bravo Seven. Jason surprised him and agreed, saying he would never remember to call him Bravo Seven anyway … he would always be Alpha One or Full Metal. He grinned. “I’m ready to make it official.”

* * *

_ **Bravo Team Room** _

Having insisted on cleaning up his mess and quite frankly not getting any pushback from the guys, Clay now sat in his chair, sipping Gatorade and staring at the face of the man who raped him. He appreciated his brothers gave him a bit of space and an opportunity to gather himself after his visceral reaction.

Jason wanted to give Clay more time, but it had already been thirty minutes, and he had no clue how urgent this briefing was, so he needed to broach the elephant in the room. He searched for a way to ask the delicate question, but their resident cowboy used his brand of humor, eliminating the need.

“Woo wee, it stinks in here,” Sonny sprayed air freshener around the room before plopping into his chair beside Clay and pinning him with an assessing gaze. “So, Upchucky Cheese, what made you hurl your lunch at Jace and Ray?”

Clay cut to the chase, inclining his head to the screen. “Him.”

Sonny turned to view the image. “He’s one ugly dude, but what specifically about him?”

“Engage your brain, Sonny,” Ray said as he put two and two together.

Sonny’s gaze narrowed on the face before turning back to Clay. “No?”

“Yes.” Clay sighed.

Sonny’s fist clenched as rage surged in him. “He’s a fucking dead man. I don’t care if Mandy wants him alive or not. His brains are gonna be painting the ground the moment I lay eyes on him.”

Clay's voice came out soft as he focused on Jason, “Who is he? I mean, what is his name, and why does Mandy want him?”

Realizing Clay must not have heard the little bit Mandy shared, Jason said, “His name is Ulker Volkan, and she believes he was involved in your abduction and targeting us in Uruguay. She didn’t convey much else before … before we took a break.”

Processing the information, Clay nodded. “I’m ready for them to come back in, but I don’t want Davis, Ellis, or Full Metal to know why I threw up.”

“You ate something that didn’t sit well,” Trent offered.

“The chicken smelled off to me,” Brock added to the ruse.

Jason picked up the landline and dialed Blackburn’s office. He notified him of what caused Clay to become sick and told him to keep it private. Before the short call ended, Blackburn indicated the four would return in about five minutes.

“I want to go if we are going after Volkan.” Clay put his beverage on the table and met Jason’s gaze.

“I’m not—”

Clay cut Jason off, “Let me rephrase … I need to go. That bastard took something from me, and bringing him in will help me get it back. I won’t let you down. My head will be in the game. If I don’t go … he wins, and I might never …” Clay trailed off before steely-resolve filled him, and he declared, “I. Need. To. Go.”

Sonny’s hand clamped on Clay's shoulder. “I vote, he goes.”

“Me too,” Brock offered.

Trent nodded. “Physically, he is capable.”

Jason glanced at Ray, hoping for a less reactive response.

Taking a moment to study each of his teammates, Ray’s eyes finished and stayed on Clay. “We’d do anything for you, brother. You are aware of that, right?”

“Yes.” Clay prepared himself for Ray’s ‘but,’ and to contradict him, coming up with reasons they should let him do this.

Ray switched his gaze to Jason. “Clay’s right. He needs to come to regain the power that asshole took from him.”

Jason chuckled. “If you all would’ve let me finish, I was going to say, I’m not sure Blackburn will go for it, but I planned to push for Clay to be on this mission.”

He met Clay’s blue eyes. If he were in Clay’s position, he would want, no, need to do this too. Though he had concerns about Clay’s overall readiness, the men in this room would have the kid’s back. More importantly … the kid never let them down.

“Thanks, Jace.” Clay reached for the Gatorade again.

The team sat in silence until the others returned. Mandy went to the front and started her briefing from the beginning, pretending Clay had not been sick. “This is Ulker Volkan.” She pointed at the man before clicking a remote and displaying multiple images.

“He appears in each one of these photos. The first one I obtained from the Zürich Stadelhofen. It was taken the day before Clay was abducted.” Using the laser pointer, she moved to the images as she spoke. “He’s in the footage Trip provided me from the Sofia train station. Here he is again in Istanbul.

“At no time is he seen interacting with Tabasi, so he didn’t stand out from the crowd. However, after reviewing all the available video from Uruguay, he shows up at the embassy.” She switched to a new image. “This is a still from the embassy’s security tapes.”

“What the fuck? That’s Wickingham with him.” Sonny sat forward and popped a toothpick into his mouth.

“Yes.” She pulled up a video and let it play. The two men engaged in conversation for several minutes, though without audio, they didn’t know what was said. Then Volkan passed Wickingham a package. “I can’t be certain, but I believe Volkan gave him the gun he used when he tried to kill Jason. You’ll note the timestamp is only fifteen minutes before the group left for the event. Wickingham never went back inside, so he wasn’t subjected to the scanner which would’ve detected the weapon.”

Jason nodded. “Explains how he had a gun. What made you go looking for him in the footage from Clay’s abduction?”

“Wasn’t me.” She turned to look at Lisa and grinned.

Lisa stepped forward. “When Mandy shared the image with me, his face seemed familiar. It took me a bit to recall where I’d seen him before. I found the picture of him before the avalanche and asked Lester to write a program to search for his face in all the footage Mandy obtained from the train stations. What you are seeing is the result of teamwork.

“Once we validated he was in each of those places, well, it was a matter of trying to track down his name. Which wasn’t easy because he used various passports in his travels.” Lisa nodded to Mandy, and the monitor displayed five passports, all with different names, but the likeness of the man was unmistakable.

Taking over again, Mandy explained, “Though he’s used multiple aliases, with the help of Trip, my MI6 contact, we determined his real name is Ulker Volkan. He is the son of Zorlu Volkran, a businessman in Uzbekistan who died twenty years ago. MI6 believed Zorlu had ties with the Taliban and suspected him of laundering money for them. At the time of his father’s death, Ulker was attending university in London.

“According to Trip, Ulker was deported after being identified as the prime suspect in a series of brutal sexual assaults on campus. They didn’t have definitive proof to convict him because the one male who was able to describe his attacker committed suicide before they could do a line up with Ulker.

“However, given the uncanny resemblance of the sketch to Ulker, his inability to provide viable alibis on the nights of the assaults, the authorities were certain he was the culprit and used his father’s link with the Taliban to send him packing. Coincidentally, the attacks ceased once he was shipped home to Uzbekistan.”

Clay swallowed hot bile that crept up his throat at that revelation. The sicko had a history of rape. He wasn’t the first victim. He silently vowed the bastard wouldn’t debase anyone else.

Eric glanced at Clay. He hadn’t known this piece of the puzzle when Mandy said she found the man responsible for the hit on Bravo. Though not cleared to operate, he had initially devised a plan to bring Clay along and keep him in HAVOC in case the team needed an interpreter. But now knowing this man raped Clay, Eric questioned whether he made the wrong call including Clay in the briefing. He needed to speak to Jason before he made a decision. He tuned back into Mandy’s presentation.

“After that Ulker falls off the grid, until now. I took his photo with me to Gmito and showed it to Tabasi. He seemed surprised both by seeing Ulker’s face and the pictures of his blown-up compound. Apparently, the past few months being imprisoned have had an impact on Tabasi, and after some convincing, he provided some useful details.”

The team listened to the ins and outs as Mandy connected the dots of a complicated network of events that tied Ulker to the IIB. The smoking gun came in the form of financial transactions uncovered where Ulker acted as an intermediary between Wickingham and an unknown IIB leader. Their mission was to snatch Ulker so Mandy could interrogate him to determine the mastermind behind the hit on Bravo, and potentially bring down the IIB once and for all.


	10. Face Everything and Rise

_ **Bravo Plane** _

Lisa approached Clay, who was busy hanging his hammock and suppressed her smile. “Hey, straps are in the back … only operators can hang hammocks.”

Flashing her a grin and chuckling, Clay responded, “I’m a member of Bravo.”

“But you’re a strap for this mission,” she teased, happy to have him back in the saddle … even though he would remain in HAVOC to act as an interpreter for this op if the need arose. Though not aware of all his challenges, his recovery had been markedly slower than usual after the abduction. She had a suspicion of what might’ve happened to him, but she would never voice it because quite frankly, it was none of her business, and it didn’t change how she felt about Clay.

Clay leaned close to Lisa and whispered, “We’ll see about that.”

Her turn to laugh, Lisa envisioned Clay sneaking off to join the others. He could be mischievous at times … more so than even Sonny. She handed him a little baggie with two pills and a water bottle. “Seconal … Trent approved.”

“Thanks.” Clay shoved the pills in his pocket. He was exhausted, so didn’t think he would need the sleep-aid. Twisting off the cap of the bottle, Clay chugged half, then recapped it and placed it on a cargo box within reach the hammock.

“Get some sleep.” Lisa pivoted and strode back to her seat, giving Trent a slight nod on the way.

Clay crawled into the swinging bed and got himself comfortable. This was his safe place, surrounded by his brothers and the people who mattered most in his life. He shut his eyes, allowing his body to wind down as his mind drifted.

Convincing Blackburn to allow him to come on this mission had been no easy feat, but Jason stood firmly in his corner, as did Ray, Sonny, Trent, Brock, and even Full Metal. When it appeared Blackburn’s final answer would be no, Clay called Dr. Upchurch. It was time to use his ace in the hole.

He had a private, thirty-minute conversation with her, where he was brutally honest about his mindset and the goal of their mission, without divulging top-secret details. Fifteen minutes later, Blackburn received a call, and though the lieutenant commander didn’t appear happy after it ended, he told the team Spenser would be going with them.

It was a mad rush to gather their gear, and although Clay could tell Jason wanted to talk to him, they didn’t have time. He figured Jason would corner him on the plane sometime before they landed in Afghanistan to have a chat, but Jason ordered him to hit the hay as soon as they were airborne.

Though he wanted to protest, he didn’t because he needed to be in the best possible shape and fully rested before the mission, especially if his plan to go with them was going to succeed. As plans go, it wasn’t much, certainly not as involved as the one to snag the HVT, but it would be sufficient … he hoped.

Clay drifted off to sleep with Dr. Upchurch’s words running through his head. _“FEAR has two meanings. Forget Everything And Run, or Face Everything And Rise. The choice is yours.”_ He was a SEAL, a damned-good one, so his only option was the latter.

* * *

_ **Bagram Air Base – TOC** _

The oppressive late afternoon heat bore down on everyone as they gathered in the tactical operations center in the Special Forces compound. The air conditioning flow had been mostly directed at the computer equipment, leaving the area around the briefing table bereft of coolness.

Clay stared at the map laid out on the table as he listened to updated intel on Ulker Volkan’s whereabouts. Mid-flight, Mandy had received details he had moved locations, which nixed the original plans. Ulker fled the village of Qarchi Gak in the Balkh Province in northern Afghanistan and was now approximately twenty-four miles away in Uzbekistan.

The latest report put him in the remote village of Vandob in the Airibaba mountains. This turn of events would work in Clay’s favor. Comms would be spotty in the mountain range, so having an interpreter with the team would be the best option.

As they discussed and reviewed infil and exfil possibilities, Clay slipped into his accustomed role, offering his opinions and other options. With the give and take natural among men used to working together, Clay almost didn’t catch when Jason said, “Ray, you and Brock will come in from the south. Full Metal and Trent the east. Clay will stay with Sonny and me as we breach from the west.”

“Spenser’s supposed to remain in ops,” Blackburn stated.

Jason rose to his full height and faced the lieutenant commander, ready to go to bat for Clay, having found a reasonable loophole to make it happen. “He was cleared to be our interpreter. We need his language skills. We can’t count on comms in those mountains.”

“Jace—” Eric began, only to be cut off by the base commander who outranked him and didn’t have a clue about the situation.

“Spenser is a member of Bravo. He appears fit. This needs to be executed with zero footprint since we don’t have the authority to be operating in Uzbekistan … which means having someone who speaks the local language is essential to avoid civilian casualties. If Master Chief Hayes is satisfied Spenser’s good to go, then I support his decision.”

Sonny patted Clay on the back and leaned in close to whisper, “Sneaky Pete, you won’t have to enact your plan to join us now.”

Clay scrunched his brows. “How’d…”

Tapping Clay’s forehead, Sonny grinned. “I know what’s in that head of yours … don’t forget I’m the one who trained you up in the finer points.”

Clay grinned and didn’t contradict Sonny, because in this case, he was right. He planned to use a page from Sonny Quinn’s playbook to act first and ask forgiveness later.

Outranked, out-voted, Eric’s eyes landed on Clay and hoped like hell Jason knew what he was doing. They needed Volkan alive … many lives depended on mining the man for information on the IIB.

* * *

** _Airibaba Mountains Near Vandob_ **

After the HAHO jump and a short hike in the dead of night, Bravo dug in and set up their blind. They must obtain visual confirmation Ulker was onsite before they went into the small village. Clay ended up undercover with Jason … knowing his master chief, likely by design and not accidental.

Jason waited until he and Clay were the ones taking watch before he quietly said, “I’m putting my trust in you. If you have any qualms about your ability to stay on task, speak up now, and I’ll make adjustments.”

As he met Jason’s assessing gaze, Clay drew in a breath. Honesty would be his only path forward because once trust was broken, it could never be restored. “I admit seeing Volkan impacted me more than I would’ve wished. But I’ve had ten weeks of conversations with Dr. Upchurch, and she’s helped me come to terms and work through a lot of feelings.”

He chuckled. “We’re not the most touchy-feely guys, so you know talking about that stuff isn’t easy. I’ve come to accept that attack was more about asserting power over me and wanting to cause pain than anything sexual.

“In many ways, it is no different than being hooked and used as a pinata in Mexico, or stabbed, electrocuted, and branded with a hot iron poker by Carlson in Ecuador.”

Jason interrupted, “Really?”

“Yeah. In each instance, a depraved son-of-a-bitch tried his best to hurt me to prove he was superior or just because he got jollies by inflicting pain. Ulker is nothing more than a degenerate lowlife who needs to be stopped.”

“I’d say he is more … he hurt you. I’m not okay with that.”

“And he’ll pay by being locked up … but some good can come out of this if Mandy can get him to talk. There is the bigger picture to consider, and that is what I’m focusing on. That is how I’ll be able to be in the same room with him and not put a bullet between his eyes. I’m a better man than him, and I want to look him in the eye, so he knows he didn’t break me.”

Pride welled up in Jason as he studied Clay’s determined features. The young rookie had grown and matured despite all the shit he went through. Ray had been right to draft Clay, and he firmly believed one day Spenser would lead Bravo. “You are one of the best men I know, and I’m proud to call you brother.”

Warmth spread through Clay at Jason’s words. “Team’s the only family I need,” Clay softly uttered as he refocused on the scope.

Jason nodded, shifted a little to find a more comfortable position on the ground, and smiled. This kid got under his skin as no other teammate ever had, and Clay would always be special … more than a brother … a son.

* * *

_ **Bagram Air Base – TOC** _

“Passing McQueen. Good Copy, Bravo One.” Eric marked off the infil step on the whiteboard. So far, things had gone off without a hitch, but that was no guarantee the shit wouldn’t hit the fan.

Mandy paced, her hands continually going up to her hair to push it back. She was still not sure it had been smart for Clay to go with the team, but the base commander made the call. If things went off the rails and something happened to the guys, Clay especially … if this turned out to be another trap … she didn’t know if she could live with herself.

“Relax,” Lisa said as she handed Mandy a water bottle.

“Usually, that is my advice to you.” Mandy pressed the cool bottle to her flushed cheeks as Lisa only grinned and went back to the ISR feed.

Mandy still found this room unbearably hot though it was nine at night. The team moved in earlier than they would normally, but they had a twenty-four-mile hike through the Airibaba foothills and desert of Uzbekistan to the Afghan border after they snagged the HVT.

They needed to cross the border before daylight to avoid an international incident. A unit of Marines would be waiting for them on the banks of the Ama Darya river on the Afghanistan side to shuttle them across to where helos would be waiting to transport them back to Bagram. The potential for failure was high, which is why Mandy continued to pace.

* * *

_ **Vandob – Target House** _

As Bravo breached the front, back, and side entries at the same time, screams rent the air from children in the front room. Clay used the local dialect to calm the women, ordering them to quiet and hold onto the kids. None of the guys liked aiming weapons at non-combatants, and though the goal was to snag Ulker alive, they hoped none of the people tried anything stupid and caused them to fire at them.

Ray and Brock joined them, bringing two women, and remained to keep the frightened women, children, and elderly men in place while Jason, Sonny, and Clay moved up the stairs, and Full Metal and Trent kept watch at the doorways for any approaching enemy combatants.

At the top of the stairwell, the trio went down the hall. The first two rooms were empty, and the third contained a young woman with an infant. Clay told her to stay put, and she and her baby would be safe. He asked if she knew where Ulker was, and she spat on the floor then launched into a litany of curses about a man she despised, before telling them he would be in the last room.

Clay translated, and they closed the door before heading down the hall. As they positioned for a breach, Jason caught Clay’s gaze. “You ready?”

“Yeah.”

Sonny entered the room first, followed by Jason and then Clay. What they found turned their stomachs. Ulker faced them in the process of dressing, no shirt, and his pants at his knees. Tied to the bed lay a sobbing young man, no older than twenty. He was naked, a gag shoved in his mouth, and unmistakable signs he had just been brutally raped … the bloody evidence on his thighs and the sheets.

In a rage, Sonny wanted to swhack Ulker, but swung his rifle instead, hitting the rapist upside the head, knocking him flat on his back. He flipped him over with not a single care, wrenched his arms backward, and pulled the zip-cuffs tighter than he should, but not enough to cut off circulation, though he definitely wanted to. Sonny thought a zip-tie pulled as tight as possible around the man’s cock would be fitting, but resisted the urge to do so.

As Jason stood guard at the door, Clay moved to the bound man, pulling out his blade and cutting the ropes. A hundred different emotions battled within him, but he pushed them down and spoke calmly to the terrified victim in the local language. He threw a blanket over him, providing him a bit of modesty.

Sonny was just yanking their HVT to his feet as Clay turned. He and Ulker came face to face, and the recognition lit in the sadist’s eyes.

Realizing he was caught and they didn’t intend to kill him, Ulker decided to taunt the blond. “You screamed like a baby. It was so much fun listening to you beg me to stop. You were a good fuck … a virgin. I like virgins.”

Stunned, Clay watched as Ulker crumpled to the floor and spat out blood. His eyes tracked the trajectory of the punch that floored Ulker and found Jason rubbing his knuckles.

“Three, pull up the asshole’s pants, and let’s get the hell out of here.” Jason pressed his comms and reported, “HAVOC, this is Bravo One, Jackpot. Moving to exfil with one HVT.”

* * *

_ **Bagram Air Base – TOC** _

“Good Copy. Path appears clear. We’ll track you with ISR and alert you if any hostiles are in your area.” Eric turned and grinned as Lisa marked off Jackpot.

Mandy smiled and sat, tired from constant pacing. “Now Volkan just needs to arrive here alive. We’ll be one step closer to taking the IIB down.”

“They’ll bring him in alive.” Eric slumped into a chair, the only one in the room aware that if Bravo planned to kill Ulker after what he did to Clay, they would’ve done it when they found him, and Jason wouldn’t have radioed in they were exfiling with the HVT.

Silently he gave props to the professionalism of Bravo … and Clay Spenser especially. It had to be hard for the young man to be under orders to bring in the animal who debased him. Clay was definitely not unfit for duty. Eric was certain Clay would pass his psych eval, be given full clearance, and return to operating full time very soon.

* * *

_ **Uzbekistan Desert – Nearing the Afghan Border ** _

Clay held the rope tied to Ulker’s wrists, pulling him along as he had most of the way on their trek. In a funny twist of fate, it turned out the HVT was safest with Clay leading him. Besides Sonny’s gun-butt to the head, and Jason’s punch, Ulker managed to have an accident while under the watchful eyes of each of the other members of Bravo.

As he trudged along, Clay thought back to their exit from the target house. Turned out, the people who lived there were happy to see Ulker leave. They even thanked them for coming. Although it was his maternal uncle’s home, the elderly man had no love for his nephew and considered him an aberration, and black sheep of a peaceful and loving family.

Ulker had shown up with that poor young man in tow, seeking shelter for a few weeks. The only reason he was allowed to stay was he threatened to send men to burn their crops and rape their daughters. He terrorized his own family. So when they left, the women threw pots of urine on Ulker. Though fitting, it made for a stinking walk for the rest of them.

Full Metal initially held the lead on Ulker, and although at the time he was not aware of what Ulker did to Clay, he was pissed about him putting the hit on Bravo and supplying the gun to Wickingham that almost killed Jason. After Metal’s oops, not-so-accidental stumble that sent Ulker plummeting down a steep ravine, and his comment, “No one would miss him, we could toss a bit of sand over him and leave him there for the vultures,” Brock was tagged to take control of the prisoner.

About a half-hour later, they had just traipsed up another gorge, when Cerb darted in front of Ulker, his leash causing the HVT to get tangled up and fall, his knees taking the brunt of the impact on sharp rocks. Clay had overheard the quiet command Brock gave Cerb that initiated the incident, but he wouldn’t tell a soul.

Next up was Trent. Several hours later, they stopped for a short break when Ulker complained about his feet. He only wore a pair of sandals, not suited for the rough terrain. Doing his due diligence, Trent checked the prisoner’s feet and proceeded to pour alcohol on the open blisters in the name of disinfecting them.

Ulker screamed like a baby, which, if Clay was honest with himself, caused him to smirk … served the asshole right to feel a bit of pain after all he caused others. Trent did wrap Ulker’s feet, he wasn’t willing to go too far afield from proper care, but when they started again, Ray took charge of Ulker.

Clay believed Ray would be above seeking a bit of revenge, and he would’ve lost the bet if he had wagered. They made it to the sand dunes, about seven miles from their rendezvous location when Ulker started to get mouthy. Full Metal learned of what Clay suffered at the hands of Ulker when the animal began taunting him again.

If it hadn’t been dark, Clay was sure he would’ve read murderous intent in Ray’s eyes … as it was, his tone carried enough venom to make it clear he wanted to send this piece of shit straight to hell.

When Ray’s knife unsheathed, Clay and the others were too far away to stop what they thought Ray planned to do. The blade moved dangerously close to Ulker’s balls, and for an instant, Clay believed Ray would unman Ulker … turn him into a unic.

They all breathed a sigh of relief, not for Ulker but for Ray when Bravo Two cut a strip off Ulker’s pants and shoved the urine-soaked cloth into the bastard’s mouth to gag him. The relief stemmed from the fact that although they weren’t above getting a small measure of vengeance, Ulker was not worth them risking their careers by reaching the standards of mistreating a prisoner.

And that is how Clay, the one most harmed by Ulker, ended up being the one in charge of him as they completed their trek. When they reached the Amu Darya river, he was glad to hand him over to one of the Marines who put a hood over Ulker’s head after putting him in one of the boats.

As he climbed aboard the second boat, each one of Bravo gave him a pat on the back and told him he did good. Though the comment that meant the most to him came from Jason. He clapped a hand on his shoulder, captured and held his gaze, and said, “Son, you make me damned proud.”

* * *

_ **Bagram Air Base** _

Wearing a towel around his waist, Sonny sauntered into the temporary VIP quarters assigned to Bravo so they could shower and change before their long flight back to Virginia. With only one shower in the room, they drew lots. He was sixth, and Clay ended up getting the short straw, which meant he went last. “Hey, Pigpen, shower’s free. Your turn now,”

“Don’t need a shower.”

“Kid, you reek.” Trent tugged on clean pants.

“Yeah, you do.” Brock pulled a t-shirt over his head, and when it popped through the hole, he added, “Even Cerb is avoiding you, and that’s saying something.”

“I’ll wait until we get home.” Clay shifted, sand chafing in uncomfortable places.

Ray observed him and moved closer, lowering his voice. “Clay, does this have anything to do with you know what?”

Clay scrunched his brows. “Huh?” Recognition lit his eyes; Ray was referring to facing down the man who raped him. “No. Not really.”

Jason came forward, freshly dressed. “What does not really mean?”

The others circled him, prepared to help their little brother through whatever was bothering him. He had proven himself fit for duty, but they all believed the events would still haunt him for a while, and strange behaviors might crop up occasionally … like not wanting to shower.

Clay read the concern and sighed. “Remember the remote base camp in the Sahara Desert when we started hunting the IIB?”

“The one that blew up?” Sonny asked.

“Yeah. That one.”

“What about it?” Jason took a seat on the bunk across from Clay.

Another sigh emitted from Clay. “This all … everything I’ve gone through started for want of a shower. So I’m just gonna suck it up and wait until I get home.”

Sonny laughed as he grabbed Clay’s arm. “Grab his feet … Simba’s taking a bath whether he wants to or not.”

The other’s joined in, laughing and joking as brothers will do, not willing to let Clay wallow. They carried him to the showers, dumped him fully clothed, and turned on the spigot. Brock tossed him a bar of soap. Trent threw in a washcloth.

Then all six, Full Metal now included in the Bravo brotherhood, stood with their arms crossed, eyeing their little brother who looked like a sopping wet puppy staring open-mouthed at them with his curls dripping under the onslaught of the water.

Jason said, “Take your shower. We’ve got your back. We’ll stand guard.” He pivoted, so his back was to Clay, giving him privacy. The others followed suit, creating an impenetrable wall.

With a smile, a sense of belonging, and a desire to wash sand from places it should never be, Clay stood and began to strip. He recognized he would never truly be alone in this life. His brothers would always stand beside him, and with their unwavering trust and support, every time he got knocked down, he would face everything and rise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus another story comes to a close. I hoped you enjoyed the lighthearted last section. Let me know what you thought ... love reading your comments. 
> 
> Now off to keep working on BREAKPOINTS and BLOOD BONDS ... with any luck, one of them will be ready for publishing by mid-April. If you enjoy my writing, you can check out my website for more info https://www.lauraactonauthor.com/


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